Temporal Swashbuckler
by Dying Grin
Summary: It would be nice, Zoro thinks, to not have to share his mind and body with his future self. Time Travel Fic.
1. Chapter 1

Zoro was still in a daze as the dying flames licked the barren ground, desperate for sustenance.

The final battle had barely lasted five minutes. The remaining members of the Yonko, the World Government, the Revolutionary Army and the Straw Hat pirates and their allies. They had clashed on the island of Hitsuzen, it had been a jungle island only a day or two away from Raftel.

Past tense.

The explosive power of the showdown between the strongest parties in the New World had quickly reduced the island down into rubble and ash. Any semblance of beauty gone.

Zoro had faced off against the blind Admiral Fujitora and Mihawk. The fight had lasted two minutes. Zoro had sliced Fujitora's neck open a minute into the battle. The last minute had been a deadly dance of steel against his teacher and life goal. The fight had been intense and they had seemed to be evenly matched.

Seemed to be.

Mihawk had stabbed him through the chest with his Black Blade, Yoru, before moving on. Helpless, Zoro was forced to lie down and watch as a four way battle had erupted between Shanks, Blackbeard, Akainu and his captain. Shanks killed Blackbeard in thirty seconds, the Yonko deftly maneuvering through Teach's sky-shattering blows. Akainu had then killed Shanks from behind, swallowing the red-haired pirate with a tidal wave of burning magma.

Luffy's screams of anguish still rang through his ears.

Luffy had fought valiantly for the remainder of the battle, pushing himself past his limits over and over. Hell, towards the end Dragon, having killed Kaido and the majority of the Pacifistas designed from Kuma, had jumped in to help.

In the end, it was futile. A bloody and bruised Akainu had smashed his Haki-infused fist through Luffy's chest and the smell of burning rubber in the air had been thick. Zoro doubted he would ever forget the feeling of it in his nostrils and in the back of his throat. Dragon had killed Akainu soon after, suplexing the Fleet Admiral so far into the ground that they had ended up underwater.

The battle ended with Dragon and Luffy's brother Sabo fighting Kong, the Commander-in-Chief of the World Government. Kong had grabbed Dragon by the head and squashed it like a fruit, blood and grey brain matter splattering everywhere. Sabo had struck the fatal blow while Kong was still holding Dragon's corpse. Kong and Dragon's remains had been burned to ash by the flames intensity.

From the moments the first shots were fired to the moment Sabo ended the battle, it had lasted five minutes and fifty four seconds. It all felt so fucking useless...he just felt like letting go of all his frustrations and drifting away…

….

NO!

With a shudder, Zoro clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood. If he fell asleep he would die from his wounds. The swordsman commanded his blood-soaked body to move and he slowly forced himself to his knees. He ignored the paroxysms of pain sweeping through his body and his screaming muscles and nerve endings and activated his Observation Haki. There had to be other survivors.

Laughter spewed from Zoro's blood-caked lips as he counted the survivors. Two survivors besides him and, honestly, he wasn't sure he even counted. Two. Zoro reopened his eye and found Mihawk staring down at him. The World's Greatest Swordsman looked down at him, Yoru's shattered hilt in his right hand and a large chunk in his left shoulder where his left arm should have begun. A large pool of sticky sanguine liquid was already forming around Mihawk's boots.

Zoro grabbed Wado Ichimonji from where he had discarded it when he fell, Shunsui and Sandai Kitetsu had been flung away into the ocean from the shockwaves of the titanic battles, and used its weight to pull himself to his feet. He wasn't going to bleed out with Mihawk looking down on him.

He was going to die standing upright. As the other swordsman equal. Zoro ordered his body to stop shaking like a leaf as he stopped leaning on his katana, this was a matter of pride. The two stared at each impassively as the seconds ticked by and their blood poured out. "Good fight," Zoro acknowledged.

Mihawk opened his mouth to respond when, suddenly, a stream of flames smashed into the master swordsman and sent him to his knees. Blood erupted from the Shichibukai's mouth as he turned to face his attacker.

"Fire Fist" Sabo stood there with his palm outstretched towards the duo. The new leader of the decimated Revolutionary Army strode forward, his face grim. "Hold still."

Mihawk tightened his grip on Yoru's hilt. "You're sadly mistaken if you think I'm going to just roll over and die," he snarled.

Sabo sent out another column of fire that plowed into Mihawk's side. The swordsman gasped and fell to one knee. Sabo reached over and grabbed Mihawk's face with his right hand, Haki coating the ends of his fingers, while his left hand went up to Mihawk's left shoulder. "I said hold still."

Sabo's odd behaviour finally clicked with Zoro as Sabo let out small, concentrated beams of fire onto Mihawk's wound. He was cauterizing it."Why?" The Shichibukai croaked.

"There's been too much death already."

A minute later, and with only a few muffled groans from Mihawk, and he was done. Sabo smacked his hands together and turned to face Zoro. "Do you want me to do you as well?"

Zoro glanced at the vertical slash in his chest that went all the way through. "Isn't that just buying time?"

Sabo nodded. "It'll only give you a small skin layer, I'd imagine you'd still die of internal bleeding soon after."

Zoro weighed the pros and cons in his head. He quickly came to his decision. "Do it."

Sabo nodded, the Logia user picked up Wado Ichimonji from the ground and handed it to the swordsman. "I'd bite down on that," he advised.

Zoro bit down on the white hilt. "I'm ready."

Sabo grunted. "Good luck.

A click of two fingers. Fire.

Pain.

* * *

The sun was setting when Zoro woke up. Someone had removed his green samurai coat and folded neatly behind him. Zoro tried to move and winced. He felt like Luffy had just fired a Gear Fourth Cavalry Cannon into his gut.

Luffy.

Everyone.

The green-haired man put his head in his hands and cried. The adrenaline from his injury and the shock from seeing Akainu murder Luffy had faded, leaving the sudden realization that he had failed them all and that he was alone.

Zoro slammed his forehead against the ground. "I'm sorry," he wept openly, "I failed you all."

Brook, Franky, Robin, Chopper, Sanji, Usopp, Nami...Luffy.

He'd failed every last one of them.

Zoro didn't know how long he had lain there on the ruined ground of Hitsuzen. Seconds? Minutes? An hour? Time no longer held meaning. But eventually the one-eyed pirate picked himself off the ground. There was something he still needed to do. He draped his coat across his shoulders and staggered forward.

He soon came across Sabo, busy digging a grave for his captain. "Stop," Zoro commanded.

Sabo turned to face him, disbelief and anger visible in his eyes. "What do you mean stop?"

Zoro picked up Luffy's corpse and draped the young man over his shoulder with a grunt. "I meant don't bury him."

Sabo's voice was cold when he spoke. "Give me one good reason to let you drag my little brother away."

Zoro's eye locked onto Sabo's. "I'm going to finish this. Luffy will set foot on Raftel." The swordsman swore.

Sabo's glare softened and and the blond ran a blood-stained hand through his scruffy hair. I-Thank you," the young man muttered, "he'd have liked that."

Zoro nodded and commanded his legs to move. "Do me a favour and bury the others." Zoro didn't turn back to see Sabo's response. He already knew.

"Wait."

Zoro turned his slowly dying body around to face the fireman. "Yeah?"

"He left this for you," Sabo announced, tossing something through the air. The setting sun reflected off the gold as Zoro raised his hand to catch it. He studied the cross pendant now nestled in his hands before putting it around his neck.

Once again, he set off. He walked at an uneven pace, fine one minute and then staggering the next. But eventually, as a crescent moon started to rise, he reached the Sunny.

Or what was left of it.

Zoro eyed the creaking and moaning behemoth skeptically. Was it even sea-worthy? Only one way to find out. He gently placed Luffy's body on the scorched grass before hauling himself up too. Large chunks were missing from the boat made from the mythical Adam Wood. Zoro pulled up the anchor and unfurled the plucked sails. Nami had mentioned Raftel was eastwards from Hitsuzen. The swordsman gripped the half-functioning rudder.

He'd be damned if his sense of direction led him astray here.

* * *

He couldn't deny it any longer. Roronoa Zoro was dying. His unresponsive body was draped across the rudder, too weak to even moan. His throat was parched and his stomach felt like it was eating itself. And the chest pains.

Oh God, the chest pains.

His torso was being ravaged by internal bleeding and the thin protective layer of skin Sabo's impromptu surgery had given him was starting to fall apart. He was dying, slowly and painfully. Time had begun blending together but the green-haired man estimated he had been out at sea for about two days.

His heavy eyelid began to flutter shut and Zoro's thoughts began to fade away. Just before his glassy, unfocused eye closed for the last time he saw it. An island in the distance. With a jolt, his eye snapped to attention. It took him a few seconds but, eventually, he clenched his palms into fists. He slowly but surely rose to his unsteady feet, ignoring the fresh paroxysms of pain sweeping through his body.

The swordsman licked his cracked lips and ambled over to the main deck, focusing on not tripping. If he fell, he wasn't sure he'd have the strength to get back up. Time seemed to freeze as he reached the three steps that led down to the grass, they could quite literally be the death of him. Gripping the railing like a lifeline, Zoro slowly made his way down and over to his captain.

Rigor Mortis had set in since he had last lain his eye upon Luffy.

It was surreal. To see the man he had devoted his life to just lying there, pale and stiff as a board. Out of morbid curiosity, Zoro kneeled down on one knee and tried to stretch Luffy's cheek out. Nothing. The pirate quickly withdrew his hand like he had been burned, that had felt wrong. He put his trembling arms under Luffy's back and hoisted his captain up.

Sunny suddenly lurched, running aground as it neared the shore. Zoro hissed as the sudden movement nearly caused Luffy to slip out of his arms. He possessively tightened his grip on the corpse, he wouldn't drop him.

Zoro walked over to a ruined section of railing and, after bracing himself, jumped down into the ankle-deep water. His bones shook at the impact but the swordsman forced himself forward. If he stopped moving now he might never move again.

Zoro's eyesight was faint and blurry but, from what he could see, Raftel really wasn't that impressive. It was an average island with a summer climate in nearly every aspect. The only thing that stood out was the large ornate marble temple that towered out over the treeline. Zoro was sure he'd find it there.

One Piece.

Zoro slipped in a gap between two palm tees. He was glad that Raftel didn't have a proper forest, Zoro wasn't sure he was currently nimble enough to avoid large roots on the ground. Getting to the islands centre was an uphill struggle, literally. The temple was situated on a large hill.

Sweat cascaded down Zoro's body and his breath came out in wheezes as his dying body carried itself towards his goal. He would not falter, not now when he was so close to his goal. He soon reached a grandiose set of double marble doors that towered over his body, they were at least three times his height. The green-haired man coated his right hand in Haki and pushed on the door with all his might. Slowly, almost begrudgingly, it opened.

Zoro couldn't help but admire the temple's interior. While the outside had been all marble, the inside seemed to be made out of the same material the Poneglyphs were made of. In fact, the walls, floors and ceiling of the corridor had hieroglyphs inscribed on them just like a Poneglyph. Robin would have been enthralled by the knowledge held in this place but Zoro had no time to waste.

The green-haired man pressed on. His arms felt like lead but he preserved, Luffy would not soon reached a giant open room stacked with priceless gold and gems. But his attention was drawn to the Poneglyph in the centre of the room. In a stark contrast to all the other Poneglyphs Zoro has seen, this one was white and far larger in comparison. The writing on it, faded and worn, suddenly glowed a bright blue and the sound of humming filled the room. The swordsman ignored it.

Zoro cleared a space amongst some bronze statues, he was sure Luffy would've approved, and placed his captain down in the centre of them. He placed the battered straw hat down over Luffy's face and stood there in silence for a moment. "You did it, you're King...be at peace."

His task completed, he wearily trudged over to the now completely glowing Poneglyph. His thoughts briefly tuned to the fateful day his naive, cocky younger self had met Monkey D. Luffy. He smiled involuntarily as his fingers brushed against the white stone, what he'd do for a chance to redo everything.

The brightness increased tenfold, forcing Zoro to clench his eye shut or risk blindness. The stone grew roasting hot, Zoro's fingers instantly burning and sticking to the rock. The rock's glowing suddenly faded, the humming stopped and there was a moment of calm before the storm.

The white Poneglyph exploded, instantly taking Zoro and the island of Raftel with it. Roronoa Zoro had but one moment to think before his entire body was vaporised down to the atomic level.

 _Everyone, I'm coming._

* * *

The marines stationed at Shells Town avoided the central courtyard of the marine base as if it was a plague. Every last one of them, besides the headstrong Captain Morgan and his foolish son, feared the evil trapped within that place. They feared the demon clad in human skin that was tied up there.

That's why no one was around to notice when Roronoa Zoro shuddered and opened his mouth wide in a silent scream. No one noticed the way he convulsed in the following seconds before collapsing like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

No one noticed when he reopened his eyes: one filled with newfound determination and the other now misty and clouded over.


	2. Chapter 2

The unmerciful sun beat down on bounty hunter Roronoa Zoro's head. Sweat rolled down his forehead in waves. His throat felt like liquid fire. His arms chafed at the points they were bound to the rope The swordsman cast a wary eye around, searching for marines. Finding none, he dropped his guard and sighed. Soon he would be free. A feral grin split across his face.

He would make it. No matter what.

That's when the pain struck. Zoro's mouth opened in a scream but nothing came out, his body convulsed in spasm after spasm as paroxysms of pain coursed through his body. The green-haired man couldn't even breath. Couldn't even think. He had never felt pain on this scale before. The vision in his left eye began to blur and grow faint. A colossal headache pulsated through his head. Strangely, the ends of his fingers began to grow hot.

After what felt like centuries, Roronoa Zoro collapsed into the sanctuary of his own mind.

…

Zoro sprung to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for swords that weren't there. He spun around in a circle, taking in his surroundings. This only disoriented him further, he was in a black abyss that stretched to the horizon and had no sense of depth. Zoro closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to remain cool and collected.

"Yo."

Zoro swung around towards the voice, fist outstretched in a powerful blow. He saw a hint of familiar green before his fist hit what seemed to be solid obsidian. There was a sharp crack sound and Zoro stumbled back, nursing his injured hand. He glared at the perpetrator. The first thing his eyes focused on was the sword casually held in the man's left hand. His sword: Wado Ichimonji.

"That's my blade," Zoro spat out with venom in his voice, "give it back."

There was a touch of amusement and exasperation in the other man's voice when he responded. "That's what you focus on. Really?"

Zoro nearly choked on his own spit when he focused on the thief's face. It was...himself? No,at second glance, there were differences between them. This man was slightly taller and had a slightly sturdier build. While he wore the same pants and boots as Zoro did, he did not wear the same white shirt and green haramaki..The doppelganger's battle-hardened chest was on full wore a cross pendant over said chest. Various small scars were nicked across his tanned arms, they showed the survival of a myriad of battles. A thin scar had permanently closed the man's left eye. Zoro could also see the beginnings of a scar at the left shoulder and right hip, but they had been obstructed by the most horrific scar of all.

It marred over half of the thief's chest, a large burn mark. It was a light pink colour that contrasted sharply to the otherwise tanned skin tone. It was stretched tightly and there was a few holes in it. Zoro swallowed nervously. By all rights,this man should be dead. "Who are you?"

The man answered with a question. "What's the date?"

Surprised, the date slipped off Zoro's tongue before he could even question why.

The other swordsman closed his good eye in resigned acceptance. "And where are you?"

Biting down a scathing retort, he somehow knew it would not be wise to anger this man, Zoro responded. " I was in Shells Town."

The scarred man nodded as if that was expected. The man's eye snapped open so quickly that it made Zoro jump, there was a determined fire raging in that eye. "In that case you'll be taking a back seat for a while."

Zoro strode forward and clamped his uninjured hand on the thief's shoulder, rooting him to the spot. "You will answer my questions, you will give me back my sword and you will send me back to where I was!" He roared in a mixture of anger and frustration.

The older man tilted his head down to look at him, it inexplicity reminded Zoro of a cat looking at a mouse. "Ask away."

"Who the hell are you?"

The man seemed to seriously mull over this question. "Calling me Zoro would be confusing for the both of us...hmm...how about Bushido?"

Zoro's frustrations reached breaking point. "Why would you be called Zoro? I'm Zoro!"

Bushido only smiled. "Zoro was my birth name but with you here I feel like it would be impractical to use it."

A vein bulged in Zoro's forward as anger pulsated through his veins. "And why, pray tell, would it be impractical to use it now?"

"Because I am you from four years in the future."

Zoro's hand fell to his side limply and he took a step back. "You expect me to believe something like that?"

Bushido gestured to himself and then to the empty void surrounding the two men. "Is there any other explanation for this?"

Zoro racked his brain for any sort of possible reason for this situation. "I've suffered heatstroke and I'm hallucinating."

At this, Bushido actually snorted. "You think we've got that good of an imagination?"

Zoro's anger once again rose to the surface. "Screw you. And what the hell did you mean by taking a back seat?"

Bushido opened his mouth to respond but stiffened, his posture going from slouched to ramrod straight. "I'll be back in a while." The older swordsman promised and, suddenly, the pendant and Zoro's sword began to glow a bright blue. The light encased Bushido and, in a flash, he was gone.

Zoro punched the ground. "God damn it!"

* * *

Bushido opened his eyes and, after encasing his arms in Haki, broke free of the wooden post. He instantly focused on Luffy's presence on the horizon, he was at sea approaching the island. It shone like a beacon in an area full of civilians but it was a only a small shard of what Bushido was used to sensing. But he would never mistook that vibrant aura for anyone else.

He took in his surrounding with a grimace. The righthand side of his vision was crystal clear, not a single marr in sight. The left however…

Was a mess.

Bushido could see maybe a fourth of what a normal eye could. Fuzzy outlines being the best he could manage. He snapped shut his left eye. He couldn't let it mess with his depth perception.

The green-haired swordsman cracked his neck and stalked towards the entrance to the marine base. He'd grab his blade and meet up with his captain. He pondered over his current situation as he walked.

His consciousness had been sent back in time to the day he had meet Monkey. D. Luffy.

Bushido was sure that it had something to do with that white poneglyph he had touched in his last moments. Still, he wasn't sure about the details. Could two consciousness's even inhabit the same vessel without side effects? He needed answers.

A shriek brought him out of his musings. Bushido focused his good eye on the shaking marine that was guarding the side door entrance. "H-how did you escape?" The marine demanded to know in a shrill voice. "I'll s-shoot." Bushido absent-mindedly cocked his right hand and swung it into the young man's jaw. The marine crumpled to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut and Bushido pressed on.

Where was Wado Ichimonji? The swordsman activated Observation Haki and scanned the base thoroughly. He felt out the weakest presence in the building: Helmeppo. He faintly remembered that the arrogant youth had often gone out to the post and had taunted Bushido about his blades.

A blaring alarm rang out, it seemed they had noticed the downed marine or the empty post. No matter. The green-haired man padded up a staircase, taking note of two grunts ahead. He was nearly within grabbing range when they noticed him. They fumbled anxiously for their cutlasses but it was far too late. Bushido wrapped his hands around their necks, primal terror flashing in their eyes, and smashed their heads together.

Moving on, the time-traveler found the pink garish door that led into Helmeppo's room. He jiggled the handle. Locked. With a sigh, Bushido kicked the flowery door in. Helmeppo shrieked and fainted as soon as he caught sight of the determined swordsman.

Bushido's good eye zeroed in on the sword he had inherited from Kuina. He gasped. It was _his sword_! The katana he had wielded from the quaint waters of the East Blue all the way to the New World and Raftel. The sheath was battered and muddy (and Bushido had always religiously cleaned it) and the hilt showed deep gouges from deadly heart-stopping battles.

Bushido reached out his hand to reclaim what was his. His fingers brushed against the damaged hilt. The Supernova instantly fell to one knee as his mind was bombarded with memories.

 _A moonlit night over a grassy plain. Two children make their promise._

 _Slowly dying as the sun beat down and down upon the young man's head. He will survive this._

 _A large man with a bible in hand stands amongst the rubble. A red translucent bubble shaped like a paw formed. Pain._

 _Raftel. Rio Poneglyph. Death._

The swordsman forced back the bile building up in the back of his throat with a gulp. That had been unexpected. He warily studied the fallen sword for a moment. He braced himself and shot out his arm to grab the blade again. Knowing it was coming helped squash the flood of memories to the outer recesses of his mind but he still could sense them playing like a flash reel of his life in the background.

Bushido drew the blade and went through a basic kata, focusing completely on the sword. After a minute, he could ignore the stream of his memories completely. Satisfied, he sheathed the blade and placed it at his hip. He'd deal with the problem itself later.

Now to deal with the marines out for his blood.

Bushido took a running leap and smashed through Helmeppo's large window. He observed the shocked faces of an assemplying marine platoon and the seething rage on Captain "Axe-Hand" Morgan's face. Bushido landed just in front of the post he had been bound to only minutes before and smirked. Morgan drew himself to his full height. "Kill him!"

"Sanjuroku Pound Ho!" The green-haired man roared, slashing the very air itself. The slash flew straight towards towards the burly marine captain. The battle was finished before it had even begun.

* * *

Monkey D. Luffy absent-mindedly picked his nose as Copy tied the dinghy to the port with rope. "This is suicide," Coby whispered fervently for the umpteenth time.

Annoyed, Luffy bonked the small boy on the back of the head. "We'll be fine," he reassured the pink-haired marine-to-be, "I'm sure I'm stronger than this demon guy anyway."

"You don't understand," Coby hissed, "this man has left a trail of blood in his wake wherever he goes. They call him the devil reincarnated."

Luffy dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "Rumors over-exaggerate things, I'm sure he's not that bad."

Copy huffed but didn't press the issue any further. The dup began the trek up the main street of the town. Luffy looked around curiously at the merry people crowding the streets and shops. "These people seem very happy for a town housing some sort of monster in disguise." The rubber man muttered thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

"Well he's probably locked up underground in some sort of maximum security facility," Coby responded unconvincingly.

Luffy hummed before tapping a drunk man on the shoulder that was passing by. The red-faced man turned to them with a goofy grin plastered across his face. "Yeah?" .

"Have you heard of Roronoa Zoro?"

The drunkard let out a hearty laugh. "Looking to thank the man of the hour, eh? He was in Ririkia's bar last I saw of him."

"Man of the hour? Bar?" Coby questioned with widened eyes.

The man looked down on them, shock visible on his face. "Holy hell! Did you not hear the news? That Zoro guy killed Morgan about half an hour ago." The drunk staggered away from the duo leaving them to absorb this new information.

Coby's jaw hung open, the boy was flabbergasted. "W-why are the celebrating the murder of an esteemed man?" And where the hell are you going, Luffy?"

"Gonna speak to this Zoro guy," Luffy called back over his shoulder, "you coming?" Coby hurried after the black-haired boy, desperate for answers.

They soon arrived at the bar in question, they could hear the sound of clinking glasses and booming outside from the inside. Luffy pushed open the door and strode inside, his eyes glancing to and fro as he searched for the potential crew member. A gaggle of men were crowded around a table. At that table, a single man sat and Luffy instantly knew this was the guy everyone was talking about.

The man in question wore dark green pants and boots, a green haramaki, a white shirt, an eyepatch over his left eye and a green bandanna was tied around his right bicep. Oh, and his hair was _green_!

Luffy's eyes lit up at the sight. "So cool," he whispered taking in the unnatural hair colour. The sound must've reached the other man because the swordsman looked up sharply. Their eyes met and the green-haired man smiled.

Luffy felt a thud as something hit his back, he realised he had paused just inside the doorway and Coby had walked into him. He apologised and moved to the side to the the pink-haired boy walk forward. "Can I help you?" A gruff voice asked, the man had managed to move from his table to in front of Luffy in the blink of an eye. Coby shrieked and took a step back.

Luffy studied the man for a moment. "Roronoa Zoro?" He asked after a moment's pause.

"Yup," Zoro answered, "who's asking?"

"Monkey D. Luffy," he replied, future King of the Pirates."

"And what does the future King want with a bounty hunter?"

"Firstly, why did you kill the marine?"

"He was corrupt and ruled the town with an iron fist, the entire town feared him," Zoro answered promptly. Luffy took note of the nodding heads and raised mugs around the bar.

A grin broke across the rubber boy's face. "Then join my crew!"

"Sure, why not?"

Luffy laughed.

.


	3. Chapter 3

As the sounds of his captain's snoring fills the room, Bushido began to mediate. It didn't take him long to entire the mysterious void within the recesses of his mind, his physical body falling backwards onto the floor of their small dingy with a thunk.

His younger self is lain on his back, eyes dully staring at the ceiling, and does not immediately notice him. Bushido sighs and clears his throat. The change is instantaneous. The boy is in on his feet in an instant and hurls himself forward at max speed, hand outstretched and snarl etched on face. The speed would seem godly for an East Blue pirate and still impressive for a Grand Line pirate.

But for Bushido it was as if the man was wading through honey to reach him, he easily avoided the lunge at his throat. "Calm yourself." He ordered. His other self responded with a fierce uppercut. Bushido let Haki coat his chin, the skin turning a shiny obsidian. There was an impressive crunching sound as the blow connected.

Bushido watched the bounty hunter fall backwards, his lips were drawn into a thin line and Bushido was proud that the man had not cried out. "This may seem sudden," he announced, "but I can't let you have our body back."

Zoro's green eyes blazed with fury and the boy sprang forward, throwing an avalanche of punches towards the older man. Letting his Observation Haki predict the future, Bushido slipped between the blows with ease. "Too much is at stake," he continued, "I can't waste this chance"

The hail of punches didn't falter as Zoro grit his teeth in frustration. "Stop talking in riddles! Explain yourself!"

"We died."

The punches faltered and the younger man gaped. "Y-you're lying."

"But I intend to use this second chance to the fullest."

"Stop screwing around!" Bushido let the fist smash into his face, his nose snapping from the force of it.

Blood poured down his face and he locked eyes with Zoro. "This time I will save Luffy." Seconds ticked by as they stared each other down, faces inches from each other. Then, Bushido began to feel tugs at his counciness. "Goodbye."

And Bushido's good eye opened staring up at the rising sun.

* * *

Bushido contemplated the talk with his younger self as he swam laps around the slow moving dingy. He had reacted like he thought he would: angry and in denial. He wished he had longer to explain things but the sunlight on his face had roused him.

That was another thing, he had only been talking with his younger self for about five minutes but about six hours had passed. That meant that either it had taken him most of the night to access the weird void, unlikely, or that time was perceived differently there.

The green-haired man was brought out of his musings by the sound of the only door onboard the small craft slamming open. "Zoro!"

The swordsman grabbed the edge of the boat and vaulted onboard the now cramped deck, were his captain was flailing around in a circle. "Yeah?"

The teen's face went from panicked to relieved in an instant. "I thought a fish might've ate you," Luffy said seriously.

"A fish," Bushido deadpanned.

"Yup," Luffy replied, popping the p. "Hey," he said, taking in Bushido's drenched from, "what were you doing?"

"Swimming laps," the time traveller replied, grabbing his shirt to dry his hair.

"Sounds interesting," the raven-haired teen mused before coming to a decision, "I'mma try it." The boy dove over the railing with a laugh.

Bushido pinched the temple of his nose before diving in after his hammer of a captain.

Some things, it seemed, never changed.

He quickly grabbed the red vest of the drowning boy and effortlessly threw him through the water and back onto the dinghy, which lurched in complaint of the abuse. The swordsman quickly followed, smacking the wet teen on the back of the head as he landed on the railing with perfect balance.

Luffy burst out in another fit of laughter, clutching his sides merrily. "That was scary, thought I was gonna die."

Bushido rolled his eyes. "I have a funny feeling that's not going to be the last time you dive overboard.

Luffy's brown eyes flicked towards Bushido's left hand. "Hey, why were you carrying your sword while doing laps?"

"Because I'm a swordsman."

"Makes sense," Luffy agreed before getting distracted by picking his nose. While the nose picking was taking place, Bushido studied Wado Ichimonji warily. The sword still bombarded him with his memories if he wasn't concentrating and he had no clue if that was only applicable to him.

He didn't want Luffy stumbling across his blade and being assaulted by his memories, of his failures: of Ace, especially. So he had vowed to never let the katana leave his side. In theory, easy enough. But the green-haired man had a feeling it would be much harder in practice.

Tearing his eye away from the white sheath, he looked at his captain. "Oi, Luffy," he called out, "Hit me with a flurry of attacks."

Flicking the booger away,and without taking questioning a thing, Luffy took a battle stance and angled himself towards Bushido. "Gomu Gomu no Gatling!"

It had been literal years since Bushido had seen the flurry of fists move so slowly and he could probably have dodged just with his battle-hardened reflexes alone. But he concentrated on his Observation Haki. He began to subtly weave through the fists without moving from his crouched position and after about ten seconds it was over.

Luffy gaped when he saw that Bushido was unscathed and hadn't moved from his perch on the railing. "How?"

Bushido smirked, he had him hook, line and sinker. "It's a special skill that can let you see slightly into the future, sense people and read emotions if you get really good at it."

Starry-eyed, Luffy pumped his fist. "So cooooooool. How'd you learn it."

"A great swordsman taught me...and I can teach you."

Luffy bounded towards him and seized him by the shoulders excitedly, nearly toppling both of them over the edge. "Really?"

"Yup," Bushido confirmed with a nod, "we can start after lunch."

Lunch consisted of Luffy inhaling a few apples and then they were back on deck, The rubber man bounced on the balls of his feet. "So, what do we do?"

The green-haired man ripped the bandanna off his arm. "Come here for a second."

Luffy leaned over and Bushido tied the bandanna around his eyes before spinning him around really fast. As Luffy whined like a kicked dog, Bushido moved to the centre of their small deck. "Now," he ordered, "walk towards the door."

The raven-haired teen nodded sagely. "Ah, I see." Before briskly walking into the railing and then off the ship.

* * *

Dusk fell and Bushido threw his catatonic captain onto his hammock with a grunt. In seven hours, the boy had fallen into the water nearly two hundred times before finding the door. And that had been pure luck rather than any sort of planning on Luffy's part.

Bushido fell back onto his own hammock and sighed This was going to be harder than he first thought. Rayleigh must've had the patience of a saint. Before he could muse any more on the subject, his consciousness was being drawn to the void.

His younger self was laying on his back, asleep. Bushido gave him a swift kick to the side. "Get up."

Zoro leaned up with a hiss, hand on his side, and glared up at him. "Stop doing that."

Bushido arched an eyebrow. "That?"

"Leaving and then coming back every couple of minutes," the bounty hunter elaborated as he got to his feet.

"Sorry,," Bushido replied with a shrug, "time seems to flow differently here. It's been a day in the real world since I last visited."

The younger man's eyes widened in shock. "No way in hell has been a day! You were here only a few minutes ago!"

Bushido held up a hand to silence him. "Stop yelling. It seems you also can't feel the passage of time."

A low growl built up in the back of Zoro's throat. "I thought you'd only been controlling my body for an hour or two but now you tell me that it's been days? I'll yell if I damn well please."

Bushido rubbed his temple. "Pouting like a child isn't going to fix anything, I've made my decision and I'm going to stick with it. I need to train them up, so they can be even stronger when the time comes."

Zoro slumped back down onto the ground, temporarily giving up. After a few seconds silence, he spoke. "Has Captain Morgan freed me yet?"

"Oh, no. I killed him."

"You did what? W-we had an agreement, you bastard!" Zoro was on his feet again, fist plowing towards Bushido's marred chest. Once again, the hand smashed into Haki and cracked. Zoro's eyes were filled with hate as he fell back.

Bushido shook his head. "The deal was never going to be honoured, I know you knew that on some level."

Zoro looked down at the inky ground. "So where is my body now?"

"With the captain." The time traveler smirked in spite of himself.

The bounty hunter choked on his spit. "You made me join the Navy of all things?"

Bushido's smirk only widened. "Nope. Piracy."

And then he awoke.

* * *

"Land Ho!" Luffy crowed out as leaned precariously over the railing. Bushido sighed and pulled him back from what was certainly have been a watery grave had the rubber boy been alone.

"Can you sense anyone?" Bushido asked as he himself searched for lifeforms. He located Buggy and his men partying in the bar, a small animal down a street, the townsfolk a little ways from the town and _her_.

Nami.

A lump formed in his throat and tears prickled in the edge of his eyes. He blinked them away. Now was not the time. He turned and instead observed Luffy, whose forehead was crinkled in concentration. The boy spoke after a few seconds. "Nope," he admitted sullenly, "still nothing."

Bushido clapped on hand down the teen's shoulder. "No worries. It'll take a while before you notice anything. Besides, it seems that the townsfolk have fled the town because of a pest problem."

Luffy cocked his head to the side. "Pest problem?"

Bushido hooked his thumb under the hilt of Wado Ichimonji and flicked, exposing part of the deadly steel blade to the air. "Yup, the Buggy Pirates are in town."

Luffy laughed. "You sound like an old man."

The green-haired man grinned in response. "Then, how about this? That Shanks guy you were talking about? Rumor has it that Buggy was in the same crew as him."

Bushido moved his head to the side as Luffy rocketed past him over the bay and into the town, determined to meet Shanks' friend. The swordsman sighed before quickly paddling the rest of the way, he threw a rope around the pier and was off in a sprint.

" _I'm coming, Nami_ ," he thought to himself as he raced towards their navigator.


	4. Chapter 4

She is running out of stamina, she realises as sweat poured down her and her heart shuddered in her breastbone. The map clutched in her hand is slick with sweat and her clothes are damp. She can hear the roars of the enraged men behind her and she gulps: their fear of their captain far exceeded their need for rest. She can't help but imagine what they will do to her when they catch her.

Her shoe catches on a stone as she sprints down the dusty road and her heel snaps clean off. She tumbles down into the dirt and realises the vicious men will be upon her any second. All her wiles and cunning will be useless to her in the face of their fury. A tear falls onto the ground.

Nami is scared.

"Bellemere, everyone, I'm sorry," the thief whispers into the crook of her arm.

"Shishi Sonson!"

* * *

Bushido let out a relieved sigh as the four men fell dead and their blood splattered the air. He places his sheathed katana back on his hip. He rises to his full height of 5'10 and turned to face the woman lying prone on the ground. That had been too close.

The swordsman raised a hand in greeting as the orange-haired woman raised her head up from the ground. "Yo."

Nami stares up him in disbelief from her position on the ground, her eyes slightly puffy. "Who the hell are you?"

Bushido jabbed his thumb against his chest. "Names Roronoa Zoro. And youseff?."

He saw the sly spark he was so familiar with reappear in her eyes. "The Pirate Hunter? I think I have a proposition for a man of your caliber."

Bushido arched an eyebrow. "Go on."

* * *

Monkey D. Luffy was, quite frankly pissed.

"Stupid Zoro," he mumbled, kicking up some dust with his foot. "I can't find this Buffon guy anywhere and I'm hungry."

The rubber boy sniffed the air as a curious scent whiffed across his nose: burning wood. With renewed purpose, he strode forward. He turned the corner and frowned. A small shop was burning to the ground. A small white dog with blood-stained fur was lain in front of it, defeated.

Luffy walked up and knelt down beside it. He absent-mindedly scratched its head. "Hey buddy," he whispered quietly, "what happened?"

The dog whined and craned its neck towards a side street. Luffy glanced in that direction and understood. A debatably large (after Mt. Corvo it took a lot for Luffy to consider something big) lion was walking away, a pouch of pet food between its lips. The lion's owner sat on its back, merrily laughing away to himself.

"I'll be right back," the raven-haired teen swore, "you wait right here." Luffy charged forward, his normally goofy features twisted by anger. He braced his body and threw himself high into the air, right above the unsuspecting duo. They would pay.

"Gomu Gomu no Bazooka!"

* * *

Bushido guzzled down the last of the booze and slammed the tankard back onto the table. "An alliance?"

Nami nodded from where she was perched on the counter, twirling a finger through her vivid short hair. "With you strength and my cunning, we could make a killing. We'd split the profits fifty fifty, of course."

Bushido struggled to keep a straight face. This Nami was as subtle as Luffy was. "I have no problem with it," the green-haired man began, " but you seem to have a misconception."

Nami put her palm under her chin. "Oh? And that would be?"

"I'm not a bounty hunter," he revealed, "I'm a pirate."

Nami's blue eyes immediately hardened like he knew they would. "Get out," she ordered, bitterness evident in her voice, "get out right now."

Bushido complied, swiftly rising and moving to the exit. He paused in the doorway. "Why are you risking your life for gold?"

"..."

"Well?"

"Greed."

The swordsman moved forward, letting the door swing shut behind him. The cold afternoon air ruffled his hair as he contemplated their conversation.

Yup, just as subtle as Luffy.

* * *

Nami felt anger and disappointment well up deep inside her. Of course it was too good to be true. The strongest bounty hunter in East Blue showing up and saving her. Of course he was actually a damn pirate in disguise.

For the second time that day, tears pricked in her eyes corners. She was a fool to think, even for a second, that maybe Arlong could be defeated. Rubbing her eyes clean with her arm, Nami jumped off the counter and grabbed her bo staff and newly acquired map. She wouldn't falter.

Not when she was so close.

Her mouth set into a grim line of determination, Nami set out into the street. She would steal Buggy's treasure and then leave.

She would survive. Just as she always did.

* * *

The rubber teen gave the nice doggy one last pat on the hat before setting out. He sighed and struck a thinking pose. It seemed that this Broggy was actually a bad person. Could a friend of Shanks' be bad? Feeling a headache coming on, Luffy stopped thinking. Oh well, he'd just go meet the guy and beat him up if he was bad.

"Stop right there, you scoundrel!" A voice roared out behind Luffy, stopping him in his tracks. An elderly looking man with spectacles and a mane of grey hair was pointing at him. The man wore a yellow shirt and green pants, mostly covered up by a leather chestplate.

Cocking his head to the side, the raven-haired boy asked, "Who? Me?"

The man began to march forward and Luffy noticed he was dragging a polearm behind him. "Yes, you," the mysterious man hissed, "you will pay!" The man roared and charged, polearm swung above him in the air. The sunlight gleamed off the wicked blade as it descended towards its target, eager for retribution and bloo-

"Gomu Gomu no Pistol."

His fist smashed into the old man's face, destroying his glasses and sending him flying into a group of barrels. The polearm clattered to the ground and the barrels shattered. The old man didn't get back up.

"That was interesting." Luffy decided before turning back to continue his walk. After a minute or two, he stopped. What had he been doing again? Oh, yeah.

Finding Barty.

"Gomu Gomu no Rocket!"

* * *

"Ichirin Zashi!" Cabaji roared out, descending from high in the sky towards Bushido. A manic grin was plastered across the acrobats face. "Just try and survive!"

Not bothered to use any of his real attacks, Bushido swung his blade out to catch the falling acrobat. He cut cleanly through the unicycle moments before it would've entered his skull. Cabaji was sent flying and smashed his head against a brick wall.

The green-haired man waited a moment to see if his opponent would get back up. After a few moments, he resheathed his katana. "Pathetic," he muttered. under his breath.

Bushido glanced upwards, he was only a street away from Drinkers Bar and Buggy. As he observed the large wooden building, he noticed a human sized projectile flying towards it. It smashed into the roof, sending splinters so high that Bushido could clearly see them from his position. "That idiot," he sighed fondly.

He turned to face the empty street. "So, are you going to come out now or keep hiding until we reach the bar?"

The guilty silence was deafening as the swordsman waited patiently for a response. With a growl, Nami slipped into view. "How the hell did you know I was there."

"Trade secret," Bushido replied vaguely with an offhand wave.

"Like hell it was." Nami scowled, readjusting the bo staff strapped across her back. "So where's your crew?"

"Did you see that object that went flying into the bar?" He asked.

"Yeah," the navigator acknowledged, " I assumed that was an accident or something, no one would be suicidal enough in the town to launch a cannon at Buggy on purpose."

"That would be the crew."

Nami did a double-take. "What? One of your crew used himself as a weapon? That's crazy!"

"That's the captain for you," Bushido laughed, "you're not the first to think he's crazy and you won't be the last."

"Captain? Then...you aren't the captain!"

"Nope," Bushido said with a smirk, turning around so he could see her while walking, "Roronoa Zoro, first mate of the Straw Hat Pirates at your service."

* * *

"What flashy bastard just did that?" A shrill voice screeched, assaulting Luffy's ears as he sat up. The teen stood up and dusted off his shorts, looking around as he did so. A bunch of weirdos had thrown themselves against a wall to avoid him and an even bigger weirdo stood in front of him.

The weirdo wore cyan blue pants and a red and white striped shirt, an orange captain's coat thrown over his shoulder. A bright orange pirate hat on his head with blue tassels coming out of either side. But Luffy didn't focus on that, he focused on the man's face.

Or rather, his nose.

"Shishishi," the raven-haired boy chuckled, "your nose is weird, old man."

The man's (Whose face was covered in clown makeup) eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the comment and his crew collectible gasped, several of them fleeing the room. "How dare you," the man growled," I, the great and powerful Buggy, will kill you in a flashy way for that!" The clown pulled some knives out of his pockets

"Oh yeah!" Luffy snapped his fingers suddenly as he remembered. "I was looking for a guy called Borsalino."

"Bara Bara Ho!".

Buggy's lower right arm detached and came flying at Luffy like a homing missile. Starry-eyed, the teen didn't bother to dodge. "So. Cool." He murmure feverently. He was a second away from being skewered when it happened..

For the second time that day the bar took heavy damage, the far wall exploded. Luffy's eyes darted upwards to view the falling splinters and by the time they looked back down, Zoro had blocked the hand a centimetre from Luffy's vest. "You can't help but attract trouble, can you?" The swordsman said as he stared down the clown.

"Oi," Luffy complained, "I can't find that Borris guy anywhere. I need to beat him up or maybe talk to him, I'll decide when I see him."

"Buggy," Zoro corrected, who was watching warily as the clown's arm reattached to its body. "And you're in luck. That's him."

"Weird clown old man!" Luffy exclaimed, running forward to shake the other pirate's hand. "It's a pheasant to meet you."

"Pleasant," Zoro absent-mindedly corrected, "he's a splitting human."

Splitting human? Luffy cocked his head to the side, what did that mean? While he was deep in thought, Buggy slapped his hand away and jumped backwards. "Bara Bara Punch!" The clown exclaimed, literally shooting his hand forward.

The outstretched fist smashed into the Luffy's face, he grinned beneath it. "Not gonna work," he announced, latching onto the appendage and refusing to let it go. He smoothed out the fist and began to tickle the palm.

"Gyahahahaha," Buggy chortled with tears in his eyes as he clutched at his stomach, "s-stop that you f-flashy fiend."

Luffy threw the hand down and raced forward towards the recovering clown pirate. "I've decided that you're a bad guy," Luffy announced as he jumped high into the air, " so I'mma deck you in the nose."

"What did you say about my flashy nose?" Buggy roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Gomu Gomu no Yari!" The rubber boy sent his legs snapping downwards towards Buggy's upturned face.

"Bara Bara Festival!" Buggy grinned as his body separated into dozens of spinning pieces. But it was too late.

Luffy's feet smashed down on the pieces, pulverizing most of them into the floorboards. The pirate did a backflip while still in the air before turning to Zoro, ignoring the now unconscious Buggy.. "Boozo sucked. I'll hear about Shanks from the man himself. "

Before the green-haired man could respond, Luffy notice an orange-haired woman slinking along the wall, overstuffed duffel bag over her shoulder. "Who the hell are you? One of Brazen's men?" He demanded to know, fist outstretched.

"That's Nami," Zoro revealed, "she's our navigator now."

Yes! With a laugh, Luffy ran forward to introduce himself to his next crew mate. "Heya, I'm Lu-"

"LIke hell!" The woman, Nami, roared as she karate chopped him in the head. "I'm not joining some pirate scum!"

"We'll let you keep all the treasure," Zoro bartered.

"...Seriously?" Nami whispered suspiciously.

"Yup!" Luffy interrupted with a grin, "not like we need it for anything."

"I'll form an alliance with you for now," Nami agreed cautiously and held out her hand. "Partners?"

Luffy excitedly shook the offered appendage with both hands and laughed.

It was good enough for him.


	5. Chapter 5

The moonlight looked beautiful as it shimmered off the ocean's surface Bushido reflects as he dries off after his night's training. He had picked up some weights and a skipping rope before they had left Orange Town and had been using them daily. Luffy had laughed at him but he didn't care. Right now his leg muscles were by the weakest part of him. He'd never be able to use Soru with them currently and that had to change.

Luffy was continuing to make very little progress in his Observation Haki training but that was to be expected. When he finally did crack the skill, he would increase in leaps and bound quickly. The swordsman had also finally convinced Nami they weren't playing an elaborate prank on her and she had also started the Observation Haki training.

Bushido padded over to his hammock and laid down. Today had been quite interesting. He had honestly forgotten all about Gaimon, the man stuck in a box and his island full of exotic islands. It had basically played out the same way as originally and now they were enroute to the Gecko Islands.

The green-haired man smiled as he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean. Within a few short days they'll have gotten their sniper. "Usopp, wait of rme," he murmured as he began to doze off.

And then he was in his mind.

He observed his younger self going through a kata, clasping his hands together to mimic a sword. "Why are you doing that?" Bushido questioned after a few silent minutes of watching.

Zoro didn't even flinch at the unexpected voice, he was used to at this point. "Why wouldn't I be training?"

Bushido dropped himself to the ground with a grunt. "Why bother? It has no impact outside of here."

Zoro finally stops and turns to face the time traveler and Bushido stiffens. Because those eyes are full of determination and loathing. Zoro points a finger at him. "Because someday I swear you will die by my hand. I will have my body back." And Bushido actually flinches because he knows this isn't a mindless threat. It reminds him of another time: a floating restaurant, a man with a black blade, an utterly defeated man and a choked promise made to a boy wearing a strawhat.

This is a vow.

And Bushido knows that his younger self will throw one hundred percent of his very being into killing him and that is no little thing even for a veteran like him.

And Bushido waked up.

* * *

Nami is awoken by yelling on the deck of the other dingy. She yawns and stretches her arms. She gets out of bed and quickly dresses before grabbing her toothbrush. She steps on deck while brushing her teeth. "What's wrong Luffy?" She asked around the toothbrush.

Luffy stretched his arm out and grabbed the rail of her boat, landing with a thump on all fours. "Nami, look," the younger boy exclaimed pointing a finger off into the distance, "land!"

Nami used her hand to shield her eyes from the rising sun and stared. Luffy was right, there was an island on the horizon. "Yup," she confirmed, "that's the Gecko Islands." Luffy let out a whoop of unadulterated joy and began to dance on the spot.

Zoro leaned over the space between the connected boats to talk to them. "We should look for a decent sized boat while we are there."

"Sure," Luffy agreed, "sounds like a plan." The rubber boy returning to his own boat and began packing an adventure lunch while Zoro berated him for taking too much food. The duo were an enigma to Nami, in every sense of the word.

Monkey D. Luffy was a goofy, simple-minded powerhouse with a devil fruit and an idealistic view on pirates. He trusted her completely with all their funds (limited though they may be)

even though he knew full well that she was a thief who specialised in stealing from pirates. Hell, she wasn't even an official crew mate. He dreamed to become the King of the Pirates.

Every day she felt herself grow more and more attached to the rubbery idiot and every day her heart grew heavier and Arlong's shadow longer.

Roronoa Zoro seemed to give off an aura that made her think he was even stronger than Luffy. He was mature beyond his years. At first glance, he seemed like the stereotypical pirate: burly with an eyepatch and sword. But under that gruff exterior was a big ol' softie. That was another thing, his eyepatch and sword. He had told her that his other eye was fine and he just chose to keep it closed (which made no sense to her , but whatever,) and his preferred fighting style was a three sword style (whatever that meant...). He dreamed to become the greatest swordsman in the world.

Adding to that was his mysterious knowledge of this Observation Haki that Nami still struggled to believe existed and that no one in East Blue knew of it. Every instinct in her screamed that he was suspicious. But he had saved her, so she trusted him.

And more importantly, Luffy trusted the green-haired man. In the end, that was all that mattered.

She would miss them, she decided. They were her boys and had made the last two weeks of her life some of the best, but that made it all the more important that they didn't find out about Arlong.

Nami had lost far too much already to lose them too.

* * *

Bushido could feel Usopp nervously waiting to ambush them on the cliff above with his "Usopp Pirates". He tapped Luffy on the shoulder. "There's someone hiding above us in the bushes."

The swordsman smirked widely when he heard a frightened "eek" coming from said bushes, and the sounds of three little kids abandoning their positions and fleeing.

"Who's there?" Luffy yell out, "and do you have a meat shop?"

"Idiot," Nami yelled, bonking the rubber teen on the head, "ask if they're friend or foe!"

Rubbing his head, Luffy tried again. "Are you friends with Joe?"

"..." The bushes twitched.

Bushido sighed. "Are you friend or foe?" He deadpanned before turning to Nami."There, happy now?

The navigator stuck her tongue out in response.

"Mature," Bushido muttered.

Luffy laughed.

The bushes explode as a man flung himself out of them and threw himself to his full height...which wasn't that impressive. The man, no teenager, wore boots and overalls. He had tanned skin, curly dark hair and an absurdly long nose. "How dare you damn pirates ignore the great and powerful Captain Usopp! Commander of eight thousand men!"

Bushido closed his eyes and blotted everything out for a second, focusing on keeping his emotions reined in. He opened his eyes and caught the tailend of Nami's sentence. "Really? All local men? That's impressive, considering it's more than all of East Blue's population put together."

"That dastardly witch!" Usopp stage-whispered to himself, "she saw through my lie."

Bushido cleared his tightened throat. "You just admitted it was a lie," he pointed out.

Usopp's face went several shades paler. "W-what cunning pirates," the sniper hissed.

Luffy suddenly snapped his fingers. "I got it!" He announced, "you're Yasopp's son, aren't you?"

Usopp gasped and rushed forward, forgetting that he was on his cliff. The teenager landed on the sand with a grunt and lay there. "Is he dead?" Nami muttered.

"Ha!" The long-nosed boy exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, "like a fall like that could kill me."

Luffy began picking his nose. "Your name's Usopp, isn't it?"

Usopp nodded feverently. "You said you knew my Dad?"

"Yup," Luffy confirmed with a grin, "Yasopp went on and on about his kid."

Usopp's eyes grew misty. "I knew he cared about us."

Luffy's stomach grumbled, interrupting the touching moment. "Ugh, I'm starving," the raven-haired boy complained.

Bushido rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Eat your damn packed lunch then."

Luffy shifted guiltily from foot to foot.

Bushido pinched the temple of his nose. "You ate it." It was a statement, not a question.

Luffy turned his head to the side and began to whistle. "N-no I didn't."

"Horrible liar," Nami whispered in awe of exactly how bad a liar he was.

"Oi." Usopp grabbed Luffy by the shoulders and began to shake him. "Tell me more."

"But I'm hungry," the rubber teen complained.

"How about we get some food in town and we can talk there?" Bushido suggested.

A few minutes later and the four were seated around a table. The cook was busy preparing food for Luffy. "Are you sure you're okay with paying?" Nami asked again, doubt evident in her voice.

"Yup," Usopp assured her, "it'll be worth it to hear more about my Dad."

As Luffy began to talk about the Red Haired Pirates stay at Foosha Village, Bushido lifted his tankard and took a gulp of beer. How was he gonna deal with Captain Kuro?

There wasn't any really purpose in changing anything, even minute changes could be counterproductive. The battle had solidified Usopp has a member of the crew and the had gotten the Going Merry as a reward from Usopp's sick friend, Kaya.

Both things were too important to be messed with. He wouldn't reveal Klahadore to be Kuro in disguise.

Decision made, the swordsman looked up just in time to see Usopp say goodbye and sprint off. "Nice kid," Nami commented.

"Yeah" Luffy areed around a mouthful of meat, "wonder what he had to do to make him leave in such a hurry?"

Before Bushido could join the conversation, the door slammed open and three shrill war cries filled the air. Three young children tumbled in, wooden swords raised in the air. "Give us back the captain!" One roared at them, the effect slightly ruined by his height or there lack of.

Luffy scratched his head. "If you mean Usopp, he's gone."

All three kids paled, their widened frantic eyes flicking from the food to the stuffed pirates. "D-did you eat him?" Another kid stuttered in fear.

No matter how much time had passed, Bushido still couldn't resist. He cupped his hand under his chin and leaned over with a wicked grin. "We ate him."

The third boy pointed a shaky finger at Nami. "You monster!"

"Why the hell are you pointing at me?" Nami roared at the trio.

With squeals, the children fled from the bar. Bushido wiped his mouth clean off his sleeve. "Should we get going?"

Luffy stuffed the rest of the food in his mouth and swallowed. "Sure! Anywhere you want to go?"

"Yeah," Bushido said, "we might be able to leech a ship off whoever lives in the big mansion on the hill."

"Great plan," Luffy agreed without a trace of sarcasm in his voice, "let's go."

Nami sighed. "You two dunderheads really see no holes in that plan?"

"Nope," Luffy said, popping the p. "It sounds like a solid plan."

Nami facepalmed as they left the bar. "I have no idea why I put up with you two."

Bushido tuned out the other two's friendly bickering as they set out on their walk. The chirps of the bird's filled the air and the sun's rays shone down merrily on the ragtag group. The mansion soon came into view and Bushido took a running jump. He easily cleared the sharp bushes and several metre of the immaculate lawn. The swordsman spotted a tree and a familiar long-nosed teen sitting on its branch, deep in discussion.

"Oi," the green-haired man called out with a wave, "Usopp."

The sniper turned to him in obvious surprise as Luffy landed beside him, a struggling Nami in his arms. "You guys," he called out, "what are you doing here?"

A sickly looking girl with long blonde hair stuck he read out of the window beside the tree, confusion on her face. "Friends of yours, Usopp?" She asked with a smile.

Usopp puffed out his chest with pride. "Lackeys of a sort," he explained, "they want me to use my expert skill to help them out."

"Liar," Nami stated flatly.

"She saw through it!" Usopp roared in shock. Both Luffy and Kaya burst into laughter. She had a beautiful sounding laugh, Bushido idylly noted.

"Usopp, what do they actually want?" The girl asked.

Usopp opened and closed his mouth several times. "I don't actually know," he admitted, puzzled. "What do you guys want?" He called down to them.

Luffy stepped up. "I wanted to see y-"

"What are you ruffians doing?" A stern voice cut Luffy off. "This is private property, leave at once!" Bushido turned and observed the new man's approach.

Captain Kuro of the Black Cat pirates looked exactly like he remembered. He wore the same suit with golden faeces markings, striped shoes and a white shirt with a black tie, His dark hair was slicked back and he wore spectacles over shig aunt face. His posture was stiff and his limbs thin.

"Klahadore," the sick girl, Bushido really couldn't remember her name, admonished. "These fellows are with Usopp and were about to state their purpose."

Kuro's dark eyes turned to Usopp. "Miss Kaya," he hissed, "for the last time, please get away from that boy."

The sicky girl, Kaya, frowned. "Usopp means no harm."

The pretend butler twitched and readjusted his glasses with the bottom of his palm. "He is a vicious liar and the bastard son of a pirate."

Usopp jumped down from the tree, his face twisted with anger. He strided towards the bespectacled man, his hands curling towards fists. "You take that back."

Kuro's smirk turned malicious in nature. "So, you don't deny it then?"

Usopp raised his arm to strike and Kuro grinned. "Prove me right," he murmured softly.

Smack!

Usopp stared in shock where his fist met Bushido;s fist. He stared up at the swordsman's eyes, searching for an answer. "Don't waste your hand on something as pathetic as that maggot," Bushido stated simply. "As for you," he said, turning to face Kuro. "Men in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Something in the captain of the Black Cat Pirates' eyes flickered, probably reevaluating the swordsman. "I have no idea what you are talking about," Kuro growled, a low sound emitting from the back of his throat and escaping from clenched teeth, "leave."

Bushido shrugged and turned on his heel, strolling towards the exit. "Luffy, we should go," he called over his shoulder, " we can call back later to see the lady of the house when her catty butler isn't around."

He let a smirk grace his features. He could practically hear the the gears in Kuro's head turning.

That had been fun.

* * *

Usopp felt like his very world was crashing down around his shoulders as him and Luffy listened in on the two men's conversation. It had to bes some sort of sick prank, it had to be. Klahadore was an ass yeah and they hated each other.

But Kaya's guardian wasn't a murderer!

Every part of Usopp's being as screaming that that was the case, but the evidence in front of him was damning.

Klahadore was talking to a eccentrically dressed man whom he had called Jango. Jango was by far the strangest man Usopp had ever seen. He wore a blue trenchcoat and hat, had a strange...thing under his chin and seemed to have a habit of walking backwards.

"Then it's decided," Klahadore announced with a grin, "the attack will be tomorrow at sunrise."

"Agreed," the Jango fellow agreed, "by the way, should I deal with the eavesdroppers?"

A ball of lead formed in Usopp's stomach and sweat poured down his face. "How?" He croaked out.

"No need," Kuro said with a smirk readjusting his glasses. "No one would ever believe. Best take care of the other one though."

The Jango man pulled out some sort of rings on a string. "Look," he said as Usopp turned and fled, "One! Two! Jango!"

Usopp glanced behind him just in time to see Luffy's unconscious body fall off the steep cliff.

"Luffy!"


	6. Chapter 6

Pushing his body to its very limits, Usopp prepared to let out a humongous roar. " Pirates ar-"

"Stop."

Usopp skidded to a sudden stop, the sudden change in speed nearly sending him to the ground. He turned to find the speaker of the voice, eyes darting to and fro. Has Klahadore caught up to him?

"Behind you." There was a trace of amusement in the voice.

The sniper turned with his hand slowly reaching for his slingshot, only to relax instantly. Roronoa Zoro was leaning against a tree, half-eaten apple in one hand. "Zoro," Usopp exhaled, his knees shaking, "you have no idea how scared I was."

"They won't believe you," Zoro stated matter of factly. "About the butler actually being Kuro," Zoro added, seeing Usopp's puzzled face.

Usopp's mind whirled at this information, Zoro has no way of knowing that. Unless...he was with the butler. Steeling his resolve, he pointed his slingshot at the green-haired man's face. His home was on the line. "I won't let you have your way!" He declared as his entire body shook like a leaf.

Zoro took another bite of his apple. "Idiot, put that down. I'm with you."

The other man's casual stance, the way he had his thumb curled under the hilt of his sword, his steely eyes. All this things made Usopp want to run with every fiber of his being, but he stood his ground. "How do I know you aren't lying?"

Zoro rolled his eyes and flicked the apple into the air. Usopp instinctively fired at the target and apple pulp rained down between them. "Why the hell would I not just kill you if I was Kuro's guy?"

Usopp considered that and slowly lowered his weapon. "Okay, I believe you."

Zoro's visible eye softened. "Good, now let's gather the other two and prepare for tomorrow."

Clearing guilty thoughts about Luffy from his mind, Usopp shook his head, "No, I have to warn the village. Get everyone to evacuate before tomorrow."

The swordsman shook his head. "They'd never believe you," Zoro said, "you already tell them that every day."

Usopp felt the blood in his veins turn to ice at Zoro's words. He was right, he was just like the boy who cried wolf. "But if you back me up," Usopp said desperately, "then they'll believe me."

Zoro snorted. "Oh yeah, the stranger with green hair would really back up your accusation against a respected member of the community. Let's just get Luffy."

"I have to try!" The long-nosed teen roared before turning on his heel and running. " _They'll listen_ ," he thought to himself, " _they have to listen_."

* * *

Luff whistled as he walked down the trail, or rather, did his best attempt at whistling. Which sounded a lot like a cross between a dying cat and raspberry noises.

Luffy absent-mindedly picked his nose as he walked. He'd been really shocked to walk up amongst the rocks at the bottom of a cliff. Ah well, he must've fallen over in his sleep. He glanced at the setting sun, he should try and find the others soon. Maybe they went back to the mansion.

With nothing else to go on, the rubber boy set out with a stride. He wondered if that butler from early was still angry? Probably not, he would've had dinner and calmed down by now. He blinked and paused when he picked up a voice in the trees to his right. "I saw him die."

"Bullshit." Luffy's ears perked, that had been Zoro's voice cursing. He jogged over and snapped basically every twig in the forest on his way. A hush fell amongst the group as he burst through the trees and into a clearing.

Usopp was sitting cross-legged on the ground, his body covered in small scrapes and bruises. Nami sat beside him, applying bandages. Zoro sat across from them, leaning against a log, boredom visible on his face. The swordsman's eye flickered to Luffy but he stayed noticed him next, flashing him a smile as she put a bandaid on Usopp's cheek. And Usopp was the last to notice.

The sniper's mouth fell open in shock and he pointed a shaking finger at Luffy. "Y-you're dead," Usopp stuttered, "I saw you die."

Luffy cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure? I don't think I'm dead."

Zoro let out a laugh. "Told you he was fine," the green-haired man muttered to Usopp.

"But you fell off the cliff," Usopp protested, "that fall should've broke your neck."

Luffy grabbed the edge of his mouth and pulled. He laughed at Usopp's shocked face. "I'm a rubber man," he explained, "I at a devil fruit."

"And you didn't think this was worth mentioning when I told you he fell off a cliff?" Usopp roared at Zoro.

"I was going to," Zoro retorted, "but you were too busy not following my advice."

"I had to try!" Usopp growled, "but...no one would listen."

Unsure of what was going on, the rubber teen plonked to the ground beside Zoro. "What's going on?" He stage-whispered to Nami.

The orange-haired woman rolled her eyes at him and sighed. "You were there, how do you not know what's going on?"

"I was sleeping," Luffy protested. "Is this about the guy with the weird walk and the hungry butler?"

"Hungry?" Nami questioned.

"Yeah, that butler was mean, so he must've been hungry."

"He's a pirate!" Usopp exploded out with.

"Really?" Luffy let out a laugh, "that's great."

"No, it isn't!" Usopp yelled, "he's going to get all of Kaya's money and plunder the village."

"He's a bad guy," Zoro elaborated.

"Ah, gotcha." Luffy nodded. "What are you going to do?"

The long-nosed teen's face was filled with determination. "I will defend my home."

Luffy grinned, that was exactly what he had hoped to hear. "Then we'll help."

Hope filled Usopp's eyes. "You will? You'd do that out of the kindness of your own heart?"

"Nope," Luffy stated flatly, making an x symbol with his arms, "we're doing it because we're friends."

Luffy could see tears forming in the liar's eyes. "Thank you," Usopp said, his voice full of gratefulness."

"What's the plan then?" Nami interrupted.

"Are you stupid?" Luffy asked her, "we beat up the butler and his crew."

"That's not a plan," Nami hissed.

"I have a plan." Usopp revealed suddenly.

Luffy turned back to face the sniper. "Really?"

"Yeah," Usopp confirmed, "I was going to cover the slope in oil and caltrops."

"Which slope?" The silent Zoro suddenly butted in.

"Huh? The south slope obviously," Usopp said.

"What makes that obvious?" The green-haired man pressed.

"We saw the two of them there discussing the invasion there," Usopp explained.

"Even more reason for them to come from the other beach then," Zoro countered.

The group fell into silence, mulling over Zoro's words. "I don't have enough supplies to trap both slopes," Usopp moaned.

"You and Nami trap up the north slope." Zoro finally broke the silence, "me and Luffy will handle the south."

Luffy grinned over at the swordsman. "Sounds good," he agreed.

"Are you sure?" Usopp questioned hesitantly, "can you handle them all by yourself if the land at the south slope?"

Luffy laughed, "don't worry. Me and Zoro are strong."

"Luffy's right," Nami agreed, "we're the ones who should be worrying."

"Usopp, do you have a flare?" Zoro questioned the sniper.

"No, but I can put one together," Usopp responded, "why?"

"Make one and fire it if the pirates appear on your sides. Me and Luffy will come running."

Usopp nodded and stood up, dusting off his overalls. "I'll get started on the traps then." Usopp and Nami began walking away.

"Zoro let's go," Luffy ordered,.

Zoro stood up with a grunt. "This'll be fun."

"Yeah," Luffy agreed," it will be.

The duo settled down on the south slope for the long haul. Zoro began to do one finger push ups. "Hey Zoro," Luffy questioned, a serious tone entering his voice.

Zoro stop his workout and sat up, sensing the change in atmosphere. "Yeah?"

"I've been wondering….is that hair colour natural?"

Zoro collapsed back onto the sand. "That was your serious question!" The green-haired man roared.

Luffy laughed and the duo fell back into companionable silence. Before he knew it, the sun was rising in the sky. "Seems like we're in the wrong place," Zoro commented, pointing at the sky.

Luffy looked up just in time to see the tailend of a dissipating flare. WIthout a word, the duo burst off towards the north side.

"Wait for us guys!" Luffy roared.

* * *

Nami smashed her bo staff into another thug's head, sending him smashing back down the hill and into other pirates. The way the pirates were thrown about was oddly reminiscent of bowling ball. "This is bad," she muttered under her breath, looking at the scene in front of her. The pirates were slowly pushing up the oil-drenched and caltrop covered slope. When they did, Nami and Usopp would have no defence.

A pirate roared and, with every last bit of his strength, pushed through the oil and was upon Nami in an instant. Nami froze as a sabre descended towards her unprotected face.

A rotten egg smashed into the pirate's face and he fell back sputtering. Seizing the chance, Nami tripped him up and he fell back down the hill. "Thanks Usopp," she called over her shoulder, "I owe you one."

"No problem," the sniper replied, "you've done so much for me already."

Nami cast a nervous look over the mass of writhing bodies on the slope. "This plan isn't going to last any longer."

Usopp fired another pellet into the enemy crowd before replying. "Any ideas?"

"No," Nami replied, "not really to be perfectly honest."

Usopp's reply was drowned out by a yell from the base of the slope. "Men, look at me." The oddly-dressed man roared holding out a shortened chakram, "look and grow ten times stronger. One, two, Jango!"

Nami instinctively shut her. "Usopp, don't look!" She clamped her eyes shut just in time to avoid the obvious tree laid for them. After all, no one would be stupid enough to activate a strength boosting hypnosis with enemies around. It would probably just knock them out when they looked at it.

Her blood ran cold as thunderous war cries filled the air and her eyes snapped open. All of the men, wounded or not, were on their feet: eyes dilated, feral grins plastered across their faces, popping veins and bulging muscles.

"Crap," Usopp whispered softly beside her. And she nodded in agreement. The men charged up the slope with renewed vigour, pushing through the oil like it didn't exist. Nami weakly brought up her bo staff to defend against the first wave, desperately ignoring the shaking in her hands.

"Yakkodori!

Blood splattered into the air as a crescent moon-shaped projectile of compressed air swept through the enemy pirates and down the slope, stopping a hairsbreadth from Jango.

Shell-shocked, Nami turned and gaped as the green-haired swordsman landed beside her in a crouch. "Yo," he greeted with one hand.

"Nice!" Usopp let out a cheer, "thanks for the save, Zoro."

"Hey," Luffy said as he jogged up, "did the butler show up?"

"No," Nami muttered absent-mindedly, "he hasn't." Her eyes strayed to the massacre that had just occurred and the still shocked Jango. The hypnotist's bulging eyes had knocked off his funky glasses as he took in his defeated crew.

"Protect me," Jango screamed in a shrill voice, "Nyaban Brothers!"

There was a flicker in the air and then two men stood in front of Jango: one fat and one line. They both wore cat-themed outfits and had clawed gloves on their hands. The duo's face were set in stone as they slipped into combat stances. Nami gulped. She could tell these two meant business.

The navigator's head snapped to the side when the sound of chuckling reached her ears alongside the sound of metal being drawn from a sheath. "Nice to see that you two are taking me seriously from the get go this time."

This time? Nami frowned as Zoro began to walk down the hill towards the last of the pirates. Had Zoro fought them before? Maybe in his bounty hunting days?

"Die," the leaner of the duo growled, "Neko-Yanagi Daikoshin!" Jango's protectors once again flickered out of existence.

"Not good enough," the green haired man announced as the two pirates appeared above his head. "Hiryu: Kaen!" Zoro leapt above the duo, avoiding their frantic claw slashes, and brought his arm down like thunder twice.

It was over before Nami had really grasped what had happened. A large gash ran down both men's midsections shortly before their chests burst into blue flames as they writhed on the ground. Zoro pointed his sword in Jango's direction. "Even think about hypnotising them...and you're dead."

"Jango." A voice said with icy calm from behind Nami, making her jump. "What the hell is this?"

Nam sprang back and turned to face the newcomer, bo staff positioned to strike. She gasped at what she saw. The butler had changed from the man she had seen yesterday. His posture was far straighter and his eyes were filled with anger and fur. And long clawed gloves covered his hands.

Claws dripping with blood.

The butler's eyes flickered down on her as Jango stammered off excuses in the background and Nami suddenly felt like a small mouse at the mercy of a cat.

And then her views was filled with the red vest covering Luffy's back as the rubber boy stepped in between them and Nami could breath again.

"Kuro?"

"What's it to you, you little brat?"

Luffy cracked his knuckles and Nami pondered briefly that she still wasn't used to the pirate's personality changes. "I'm here to kick your ass."

* * *

" _Luffy," the fallen man rasps out, holding his remaining sword to the sky, "can you hear me?"_

 _When the teen in the straw hat responds in the affirmative, the green-haired man ploughs on. "Sorry for worrying you. If I don't become the greatest swordsman in the world, you'd be in a dilemma now, right?"_

 _And now there are tears of frustration in the man's eyes "I will...I will never...LOSE AGAIN!"_

 _The promise rings out loudly across the silent ocean and it seems like the entire world has forgotten to breath._

" _Until I defeat him and become the greatest swordsman, I'll never be defeated anymore!" A grin tugs at his lips at the man's, no, Roronoa Zoro's proclamation. Excitement begins to burn in his chest and flood his veins._

" _Any problem with that, Pirate King?"_

 _And for the first time in a long time, Dracule Mihawk is satisfied from a fight_

…

Mihawk lurched awake, hand clawing at the burning pendant constricting his neck. He ripped it off after a few seconds of fumbling and throwed it to the other end of the rowboat.

He cupped his head in his hands, massaging his temple. His body was clammy and his heart was pounding. What the hell had just happened?

The swordsman looked up and saw an armada of ships appearing from the fog, they bore the Jolly Roger of a skull on an hourglass.

"Bow before the might of Don Krieg's fleet!" A voice boomed out.

Dracule Mihawk rose to his feet and drew Yoru with a flourish.

Time to vent.


	7. Chapter 7

He gripped the bottle of sake with one hand and left the kitchen. The moon and stars shone down on the little caravel and Bushido took in a deep breath of the salty sea air. His good eye glanced at the freshly painted jolly roger and flag. The Going Merry was now one step closer to being competed. All it was missing was shoddy half-assed repairs and Nami's mikan groove.

The swordsman took a deep gulp of the alcohol before moving to sit on the lamb masthead. He double-checked that everyone was okay with Haki, a quickly forming habit, before letting down his guard. Everyone was fast asleep in their beds (or, in the men's cases, hammocks).

Bushido leaned his head back and began the nightly ritual that he partook in every night before visiting his mind: planning. How to deal with friends, enemies and future crew recruitment. He couldn't afford to do this by the side of his pants. He had to be meticulous.

At least until Mock Town,anyways. Things would probably spin out of control very quickly once they reached the point he truly intended to change things. After that, all his future knowledge would be useless.

He also had to consider if the crew should separate for two years or just rely on the training he'd drill into them until that point.

The green-haired gulped down the last of the sake and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting ahead of himself, he had another reason to be out here tonight.

"Merry," he spoke after carefully considering his words, "can you hear me?"

The sails seemed to momentarily dip in response.

Bushido let a soft smile appear on his face, he had been trying to contact the ship's Klabautermann for the two weeks they had had it, but with no luck. It seems the painting of the flag and sail had done the trick. "I just want to say sorry."

He could almost feel the ship's confusion. "I really am sorry." Bushido was surprised to find that his voice was thick with emotion. "Truly sorry."

He stood up and ambled back towards the crows nest. "I promise I'll do my best to keep you in top notch condition throughout the harshness of the Grand Line."

As he began to climb the ladder to Merry's highest point, his ears prickled as a faint childlike "Thanks" was whispered his ear alongside a gust of wind.

The green-haired man slept a bit sounder that night.

* * *

Usopp really couldn't believe they had roped him into this. He let out an audible gulp as his fingers fumbled to find the caravel cannon. He found the vent of the artillery and then the fuse, his nervous sweat fingers struggling to get a solid grip on it.

"Are you going to light the damn thing or just keep fondling it?" Zoro questioned.

Usopp turned to face Zoro or, at least, where the thought the swordsman was. The blindfold over his eyes made it a challenge. He shot him the bird before refocusing his attention on the cannon.

His left hand went into his overalls pocket and searched blindly for his box of matches. His calloused fingertips brushed past his trusty slingshot before snatching the matches and pulling them out. "Gotcha," he crowed in triumph as he brandished them in the air.

Zoro clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump into the air with a yelp. "Good, now shoot that small rocky island over there."

"That's crazy," the liar protested, "you said Haki could only be used on living things."

"Yup," Zoro confirmed.

"Then you're literally just setting me up for failure then!" Usopp's anger momentarily overtook his usual meekness.

"Usopp, trust me...there are two lifeforms on that outcrop."

With a shiver, Usopp begrudgingly touched the cannon again. "That as it may, it doesn't change the fact that I can't aim it without sight."

"Hey, we are only this because you gave up on the other training."

"I was sick of falling off the edge of the boat," he protested.

Truth be told, Usopp was regretting this. After two weeks of watching Nami and Luffy walk around the deck with blindfolds on, he finally burst and asked Zoro. The swordsman had smirked and explained Haki to them.

And thus, Usopp's Haki training had begun that morning. And he had quickly discovered after the fifth fall overboard, that it wasn't for him. And then Zoro had kicked him towards the cannon.

"Luffy can't even swim," the green-haired man pointed out, "and you don't hear him complaining."

Brushing aside the feeling of guilt that swept through him, Usopp snapped back. "What's the point of learning how to shoot blind anyway?"

"Picture this." Zoro's voice was cold. "It's foggy and you're shot could be the difference between life and death...but you can't see."

"Fine, fine," Usopp snapped, "I'll try it." Usopp aims the cannon upwards slightly, just to make sure he isn't going to fire it into the curving side of Merry, and lit the fuse. He clapped his hands over his ears and heard the muffled boom of the cannon a few seconds later. "See?"

Zoro was silent for a moment. "You hit it.

"No way," he gasped, ripping off the blindfold. It was true, the cannon had clipped the edge of the rocks. "Of course," the sniper blustered, "I've unlocked Haki."

"No," the older man disagreed, "that was just luck. Still impressive though."

"So, what were the two lifeforms?" Usopp asked absent-mindedly, "crabs?"

"No," Zoro replied off-handedly, "two people."

"Ah...what!"

"Two people."

"I heard you just fine, that's not the point here!" Usopp wailed. "Why the hell did you make me kill people?"

"They aren't dead," Zoro said bluntly, "in fact, they're rowing over here as we speak."

The long-nosed teen whirled around to face the ocean and squealed: a rowboat was furiously being paddled towards them. "They're gonna kill me," he moaned.

"No." And Zoro's voice is deathly serious. "I'd never let anyone kill you...besides, I know them."

"You do?"

"Yup, they're a pair of bounty hunters I used to work with."

"Guys you worked with must be really strong." Usopp realised with dread.

"That's...debatable."

Luffy and Nami ambled over. "What's wrong?" Luffy asked.

"I'm gonna d-"

"We're about to have visitors," Zoro said, cutting the sniper off.

Usopp waited in trepidation for the next few minutes, nervously chewing on his fingernails. His breath hitched when two pissed off men with drawn swords vaulted over the railing, issuing war cries.

He let out an audible sigh of relief when Zoro darted forward and bonked them on the head, sending them crashing to the floor.

* * *

Bushido woke with a start. A very familiar presence had just entered the edges of his Observation Haki awakening him from his physical and verbal spar with his younger self. The presence was far weaker and duller than he remembered, but it still brought nostalgic memories to the forefronts of his mind. Of mouth-watering meals and constant battles. The aura's owner could only really be one person.

Sanji.

The green-haired man grinned and walked out to the deck. Nami stood on deck with a compass, the others were busy trying to teach Luffy how to play a card game.

They were failing. Miserably.

Bushido tapped the navigator on the shoulder, she turned her head to him and smiled. "Yeah, Zoro?"

"How far away are we from this sea restaurant."

"Hmm." Nami pondered. "Based off the information your two pals gave me, I;d say about half an hour or so."

The green-haired man nodded his thanks and moved on towards the table that had been temporarily placed on deck. "Johnny, Yosaku," he called out, "wanna spar?"

His old friends grinned and nodded. They moved to the center of the deck and drew their respective katanas. "Luffy," he called out to the rubber boy, "call the match."

Luffy grinned. "Begin!"

Johnny and Yosaku instantly pressed for the offensive, realising they'd have no chance on the defensive. Johnny slashed his sword towards Bushido's legs while Yosaku went for a disarming swipe.

Bushido grabbed Yosaku's blade with a Haki-infused hand and held it in place, he moved slightly backwards on the balls of his feet to avoid Johnny's attack. He flung Yosaku into Johnny and the bounty hunting duo went down in a sprawled heap. "We give up," they announced in unison.

"Zoro's win," Luffy called out with a laugh.

Bushido's ears prickled, his body stiffening as his Haki let him know of an incoming threat. He swiveled around, Wado Ichimonji howling through the air. The cannon ball that would have smashed into Merry's mast was instead split into two clean pieces each flying to either side of the mast before harmlessly exploding. His visible eye narrowed when he saw their attacker.

The marine was openingly gaping at him from where he leaned on his ship's' railing, a beautiful lady in a red dress hugging onto one of his arms. The man wore a white suit, brass knuckles adorning his hand. His hair was a girly shade of lilac. Bushido couldn't place exactly where he knew him from. "A-again," the man stuttered, "fire again!"

The marines scrambled to their stations, preparing for battle. With a sigh, Bushido swung his blade horizontally, air slashing out from the edge. The basic air attack easily sliced through the hull and the enemy ship begins to sink, the men onboard screaming. The lilac-haired man vaulted onto the railing and _jumped_. "Bastard!"

Luffy ran up beside Bushido to meet the attacker. "Gomu Gomu no Rifle!"

The marine, Fullbody he suddenly remembered, coughed up blood and is spinning away. The man arcs higher and higher, blocking out the sun momentarily. Bushido squinted his eye and begins to guess where the man will land. He spotted a dim outline of a building on the horizon.

His heart sinks.

And Lieutenant "Ironfist" Fullbody's unconscious body smashed into the Baratie.

* * *

Sanji, sous-chef of the floating Baratie, had been having a good day so far. No rowdy, ungrateful customers who wasted their food. No rowdy pirates trying to attack the old geezer. And the icing on the cake? A higher than usual amount of lovely ladies.

Lit cigarette dangling from his lips, he had gone out to take some more orders from a male only table.

That was until a human cannonball smashed through the ceiling and barreled into his chest.

The blond man had heard the crack of a rib or two as his body was flung backwards into the kitchens. His back slammed against the back counter, sending a bowl of vegetable soup spilling onto his head.

Oh, someone was going to pay.

He strided over to the still man, pointly ignoring the sniggers of the other cooks, and raised his right leg over his head. That's when he noticed the bloodied marine insignia on the man's lapel. "Guys," he called over his shoulder, "I think we have pirates incoming."

"I'll warn Zeff," Carne sighed and moved away from the kitchen.

Patty cracked his knuckles. "Let's get this over with, can't let some pirates get away with breaking the restaurant."

Sanji ignored a twang of pain in his ribs. "No," he agreed, "we can't."

* * *

Luffy stretched out his arm and grabbed the edge of the floating sea restaurant with a grin. He ignored Zoro's warning to wait and sling-shotted over. He missed the landing and smashed through the double doors, rolling over and over.

His forward momentum was abruptly stopped by a leather shoe coming out of nowhere and slamming his face further into the wooden floor. "Shitty pirate," an unknown voice grumbled, "mind explaining why you fired a human projectile into the restaurant?"

"Let him go." Luffy heard Zoro order from the direction of the entrance, along with the sound of steel being drawn.

A pause. "Or what?" The voice from directly above Luffy asked.

"I slash right through you, pretty boy."

The tension was thick enough in the room. Luffy strained his ears for any changes in movements. "You brought this upon yourself," the mystery voice announced, "Mouton Sho-"

"Hey," Nami suddenly piped in, "I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. So, let's just talk things out.

"MADEMOISELLE!"

Luffy looked up from the floor to see a well-dressed blond-haired man doing what could only be described as a noodle dance towards his navigator. Luffy grinned, laughter building in his throat.

This place was interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

Sanji was the first to admit that life on the Baratie has become far more interesting over the last few days (interesting being another word for chaotic). Their new choreboy, one Monkey D. Luffy, was a double-edged sword. He was great at getting people to loosen up and get along...but horrible at just about everything else. Sanji wasn't even sure why the brat was hanging around. When the marine had woken up, Zeff had knocked him around until he spat out the truth: the pirates had been in the right.

Sanji had asked but had only gotten a vague "have to wait for Zoro" in response. The cook has asked the green-haired shithead but had got only a monotone grunt in response. Roronoa Zoro was another cat of bags all together. The swordsman spent his days staring at the horizon restlessly. Almost like he was waiting for someone, something.

Then there was the long-nosed boastful sniper, Usopp. The teen spent his time trying to mooch food off the cooks or messing around with Luffy.

And then there was the apple of his eye. The cold mistress who was stuck with those three morons. The mesmerising Nami-swan! She spent her precious time sitting at a seaview table sipping drinks, free of charge of course.

Sanji noticed Luffy in the corner of his peripheral vision and gave the rubber boy a roundhouse kick for his troubles. "Ow," the pirate complained as he rubbed his head, "what was that for?"

The blond cook lit up a cigarette. "Not sure," he admitted, "but I'm sure you did something. Now, back to work."

Luffy pouted before slinking off back to the kitchen. Sanji watched the boy go before moving forward to take the order of some new customers. His movement is stopped when the front doors are smashed it. He whirled around and raised his leg, ready for combat. His eyes lit up when he sees a much healthier looking Gin standing in the doorway.

Gin had arrived the same day as the Straw Hat Pirates had. He had looked remarkably like a drowned rat, he had been a prisoner on Fullbody's ship. His face had been gaunt, his eyes sunken in their sockets and his waterlogged clothing were barely hanging onto his matchstick frame. He had demanded food.

Sanji had been happy to provide.

"Hey," Sanji called out, "I'm surprised to see you soo-"

A large shadow had fallen over Gin as a second man had followed him into the doorway: Don Krieg. "I'm sorry," Gin croaked, "I truly am."

The large man, who was wrapped up in a large fur-lined coat, fell to his knees. "Food" he pleaded, "give me some food.

"Like hell," Patty roared, "Like I'm going to feed Foul Play Krieg!"

Sanji placed a calming hand on the burly man's shoulder. "How much?" He asked the fallen pirate.

"Fifty one meals," the man rasped, "I have fifty starving men outside."

"Oi," Carne yelled out from the kitchen door, "you can't do seriously be considering feeding him?"

"I never let a man starve," Sanji retorted coolly, "choreboy, grab me something from the fridge."

The crowd of terrified customers and stunned cooks parted before Sanji as he calmly walked towards the kitchen. Luffy appeared with a huge piece of meat at the door, a large grin plastered across his face. Sanji took it and began the walk back. "Sanji," the boy yelled at his back, "I still haven't changed my mind about you being my chef."

Sanji noticed Patty reappearing with his special bazooka, his fellow chef pointing it towards Sanji's head. "Sanji." Patty's voice was surprisingly calm. "He will kill us all if you feed him."

Before the blond man could respond, the bazooka was falling to the ground: split cleanly in two pieces. "The pervert of a cook made his decision," Zoro called out from the far wall, "if you have a problem with that...well then, you have a problem with me."

Sanji shot the man an appreciative nod, ignoring the jab at his womanising ways, and placed the meat in Krieg's quivering hands. Tears in his eyes, Don Krieg quickly gobbled up the large slab of meat in a few seconds. "Thank you," the Pirate Admiral whispered as his complexation returned, "thank you."

The next few seconds were a blur for Sanji as Don Krieg's large hand snaked out and grabbed his face, blocking his view The surprised cook was easily lifted up and smashed into the ground. Sanji coughed up blood as the pirate grounded his body further into the floorboards, Sanji's legs flailing for a target.

Then there was a terrible scream and Sanji could see again, through his vision was tinted red. He dimly realised that he was coated in sanguine fluid, he sat up and stared at the surreal sight in front of him. Don Krieg was howling as he rolled around on the floor, clutching the stump where his right hand used to be. The cook glanced down at his lap and realised, with a jolt, the hand was laying on his lap.

"I'll kill you," Krieg spat out with loathing as Gin threw the larger man over his shoulder, "you and everyone you care for." Sanji looked at where the Pirate Admiral was staring: Roronoa Zoro, with his sword drawn but still leaning against the far wall. Sanji nearly misses the food bag that Zeff tossed to Gin as he booked it out of the restaurant.

A rubber hand was stretched out in front of Sanji and he grabbed it without hesitation, allowing it to pull him to his feet. The blond cook looked around as the restaurant was prepared for battle, at the fleeing customers and the irate cooks yelling at Zeff for giving the enemy more food.

Shaking his head from side to side, Sanji joins those preparing for battle. He will not let anyone hurt his home or Zeff, not even Gin.

He never noticed that his darling Nami-swan had left during Krieg's introduction or Roronoa Zoro slipping out after her as Sanji prepared for battle.

* * *

She was crying, Nami realised as she stepped aboard the Going Merry. Great big tears that fall down her face and refused to stop, she rubbed her eyes but it only made things worse. The caravel rolled uneasily over the small waves, as if sensing her discomfort but unable to help.

The navigator had considered leaving a letter, but that had been too hard. Plus, Luffy would just chase after and be killed by Arlong, even thinking the name made his laugh echo maddeningly in her ears.

 _Shahahaha_

No, this way was better. Take the ship and treasure and leave. They'd see it as a betrayal. The cunning pirate thief with a hatred for pirates had finally shown her true colours. And even if they did want to go after her, they'd have no way to know she was heading for Arlong Park.

 _Shahahaha_

Nami shuddered and pulled up the anchor. She had told Johnny and Yosaku that Zoro had needed them and they had rushed off, no one would see her leave. No one would know what direction she took the boat in.

 _Shahahaha_

On some level, Nami knew she was being irrational. She knew that Luffy and Zoro could probably take down Arlong, she had seen proof of their titanic strength time and time again. Logically, she knew that they could and would save her from Arlong. But her childhood fear of the tyrannical fishman beat logic in just about every way.

 _Shahahaha_

More tears hit the ground as the navigator unfurled the sails. This was it, the end of her journey with the Straw Hat Pirates. "Goodbye," she whispered under her breath as she moved to man the rudder, Arlong's laugh still vibrating through her head.

 _Shah_ -

"Yo."

Nami whirled around, her mind going at a hundred miles an hour. Roronoa Zoro stood behind the railing of the Baratie with an arm lazily raised in greeting, one easy leap away from Merry's deck. His tone and posture were lazily and casual but his eye was serious, boring into hers.

"Z-zoro," she called out weakly, cursing the shakiness in her voice, "this isn't what it looks like."

"Nami." The words are sharp. "Don't lie to me."

The navigator flinched and took a half step back, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. She was aware of the rudder protruding into her back. "Sorry." The words slip out.

The green-haired man is silent for a moment. "I want you to know that you don't have to go. I know you will, but you don't have to."

Nami studied the sheathed sword hanging by his side warily. "And you aren't going to stop me?"

"No. But I will follow you."

Her heart momentarily stops. "Yeah, right." Her voice is filled with false bravado. "The world is a big place. With my head start you'd never find me."

"Under normal circumstances, no," the swordsman agreed, "but I know where you're going."

"Bullshit."

"Arlong Park," Zoro countered.

Nami felt her world screech to a halt. "H-how?"

Zoro ignored her question. "And we'll follow. And between me, Luffy, Usopp and the cook...we'll turn that tower into rubble."

And she was crying again. "Arlong's too much for you." The words rung hollow in her ears.

The green-haired man shook his head. "When it comes to you guys, I'd fight the entire World Government."

And Nami realised that the man in front of her was deadly serious. Suddenly unable to continue the conversation, she turned and gripped the rudder until her knuckles whiten. And Merry begins to move. And Nami's all-consuming fear is suddenly mixed in with a ray of optimistic hope.

Her boys are coming for her.

* * *

Bushido reentered the restaurant to find it empty. That isn't that surprising, he can hear the sounds of battle outside: swords clashing, guns being fired and warcries being uttered. The battle for the sea restaurant Baratie had begun.

The swordsman had actually forgotten about Don Krieg. Well, that wasn't quite true. He remembered that there had been an underhanded pirate with a superiority complex that had tried to take over Sanji's home after losing to Mihawk. He had just forgotten the man's name and appearance.

Don Krieg was honestly one of the worst captains he had ever seen, and throughout his bounty hunting days he had seen a lot of horrible captains.

Cruel, dishonest and arrogant mixed in with a short temper. A poster example of basically every negative trait a captain could have. Bushido did not regret cutting off the man's hand. Maybe it would lessen his overconfidence, though he doubted that.

Hell, Sanji had the situation handled. In another few seconds the cook would've calmed down and, with no mercy, slammed both his legs into the man's ribs. But the smirk on Krieg's face had really gotten on his nerves.

Bushido stiffened as an aura appeared on the edges of his Haki. It was one he knew like the back of his hand: Dracule Mihawk. Based off the speed of his small boat, Bushido guesses that the journey that took the Merry half an hour will take Mihawk five minutes.

The green-haired man frowned, the man's aura was different from usual. Usually it was calm, like the ocean on a clear day. But today it is erratic, going through several emotions a second. And more than that still, it is dimmed. Like the man is running on the last dregs of his energy.

Bushido ignored it and marched out the door, worrying about it would change nothing. His visible eye raked over the small battlefield, instantly identifying the major players. Don Krieg is yelling orders from his boat while a doctor fiddled with the bleeding stump, Luffy was fighting against a tincan, Johnny and Yosaku were for once against men of a lower caliber than them, and are thus cutting through waves of them. Usopp was stood near him and was using his sniping skills to their fullest, and the cook was fighting against Gin.

Bushido drew Wado Ichimonji and began carving a straight line towards Don Krieg through the chaos. By the widening of the Pirate Admiral's eyes, he was sure that Krieg has noticed. "Bring me that man's head!" Krieg roared, spittle flying from his mouth, at the few man still onboard.

Before they could respond, their ship didn't exist anymore. Well, that's a lie...it existed, just in two sinking pieces. Bushido's eye widened as a blast of focused killing intent slammed into him, nearly making him forget to breath. Dracule Mihawk is in front of him.

Mihawk's skin was sallow with huge bags underneath his now dulled eyes and he had already drawn Yoru from its sheath. The yellow eyes sharpened as they focused on Bushido and another wave of killing intent is fired at him. "You," Dracule Mihawk growled, "I am going to kill you!"


	9. Chapter 9

Bushido opened his mouth to challenge the World's Greatest Swordsman to a duel. This was a mistake. Before he could uther a word, Yoru was descending towards his face. It was only Bushido's use of Soru that saved him.

The green-haired man flickered behind Mihawk and eyed him warily. "That was rude."

"I am really not in the mood," Mihawk replied, sending an air attack Bushido's way.

Bushido dodged the blow and send his own air attack back. Mihawk deftly blocked it, swinging Yoru in front of it with one hand. "Johnny, Yosaku," Bushido called out as he placed Wado Ichimonji in his mouth, "toss me your swords."

Two low class sabres were flung into the air and he caught them easily. The stance for his infamous Santoryu came back to him easily, like breathing, even after weeks of disuse. He began to analyze Dracule Mihawk. The man was far more sloppy than usual, none of the attacks were that of a world renowned swordsman. They were that of a man out for blood.

Bushido had honestly no clue what he had done to his teacher to anger him this much. "Kokujo: O Tatsumaki," he roared spinning and unleashing a massive tornado towards Mihawk. "May I ask a question?"

The World's Greatest cut through the middle of the deadly tornado with ease and flickered out of existence. Bushido entered the Onigiri pose and blocked Yoru as Mihawk reappeared. "You may," Mihawk said, "though I do not promise to answer."

He jumped back, eying the new cracks in his temporary swords with distaste, and refocused his thoughts. "Why are you so intent on killing me?"

Mihawk dashed forward, aiming the large black greatsword in a horizontal slash. His battle-honed instincts were the only thing that stopped Bushido being decapitated by the move as he ducked under the blade. "Ul-Tora Gari!" He yelled, bringing down his friend's sabres.

Mihawk fell back with a grunt, two thin cuts running down either side of his chest. Bushido smirked, first blood had gone to him. "The reason I want you dead?" Dracule Mihawk said suddenly, "it's quite simple...I want to sleep."

The simple explanation caught the green-haired man off guard and he nearly missed the other swordsman's next move. The other swordsman jumped into the air and slashed hundreds of times in a few seconds over a wide area. Bushido's good eye widened, there was no way he could dodge that. Instead, he dug in his heels and let Haki coat his body

The bombardment of slashes smashed into him and the wooden deck groaned and buckled under him. Bushido sank to all fours and gasped, his Haki had barely held. Mihawk landed down across from him, a gleam returning to the man's tired yellow eyes. "You have Haki."

Bushido cursed as he unsteadily to his feet, Johnny and Yosaku's katanas had been shattered by the attack. He dropped Wado Ichimonji into his right hand, knowing that he had basically lost the battle. "So I do. And I have no clue what you are fucking talking about."

As Dracule Mihawk opened his mouth to retort, Bushido used Soru. "Baki!" He roared, slicing the blade down towards the World's Greatest Swordsman's unprotected head.

Mihawk pivoted away from the fatal blow and swung Yoru towards Bushido's legs. The swordsman used Soru to move back to his old position. The two men watched each other impassively. "Every night." Mihawk began, "I get nightmares of future and past events."

"That sounds pretty crazy," Bushido muttered, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour.

"I didn't think they were true for a second either...that was, until I ran into you here."

"Any idea of what caused it?" The time-traveller's voice was hoarse.

"I think it's my pendant," Mihawk said, "ah, but look at me rambling. Sorry for trying to kill you, I get cranky after running on little sleep for a week straight."

Bushido's palm was slippery as he slipped into a new stance and coated his entire body in Haki. This was the end. "Apology accepted."

There was a ghost of a smirk on Mihawk's face. "Boy, what is your name?"

"Roronoa Zoro."

"As the visions foretold. I will remember it.," Mihawk promised," "let us end this then."

"Shi Shishi Sonson!" Bushido roared as he dashed forward at full speed. Time seems to slow as adrenaline was pumped through his veins.

 _Three seconds_

He could see everything in minute detail. Luffy slowly pushing his rotund opponent back, the man's armour slowly cracking under the rubber boys furious blows. Usopp had stopped firing on Krieg's crew, his horror-filled eyes focused solely on Bushido. Sanji was gaining the upper hand against Gin, pushing the battered pirate further and further back.

 _Two Seconds_

Mihawk was standing perfectly still, Yoru held at his side. The now fully alert hawk like eyes following his approach. Bushido can't figure out what the man's plan is. The laxness is obviously a trap. For a moment he hesitated but, in the end, he pressed on.

 _One Second_

The World's Greatest Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk finally acts. He holds out his blade, Yoru, and coats it with Haki. The plan is so simple but Bushido can only gape. The tip of the blade meets Bushido's chest. Both of their Haki's buckle and break.

 _Defeat_

Wado Ichimonji clattered to the ground as time seemed to return to normal speed.

Blood erupted from Bushido's mouth and he gagged as the metallic taste filled his mouth. His vision swims in and out of darkness as his eye finally looks down.

The blade of Yoru is submerged halfway into Bushido's chest, stopping just before the spine. For a second, he is back on the scorched island of Hitsuzen and Mihawk has delivered a fatal wound to him.

He coughed up a piece of bloody phlegm as Mihawk dusted off his coat. "This result was inevitable," the victor announced a the entire battlefield seemed to turn their head to watch the conclusion. "For someone as skilled as yourself, this was obvious. Why did you press on?"

Bushido groaned as his body finally gave in and the only thing keeping him in the air was Yoru. "Because," he rasped, "I made a promise."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow, curiosity gleamed in his amber eyes. "Oh?"

"A promise to beat you no matter what...and If I had backed away today, well that is as the same thing as breaking my promise."

"I see. Any last words?"

A feral grin forced his way onto the time traveller's bloody lips. "I will defeat you someday. I swear it."

Dracule Mihawk leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Roronoa Zoro, meet me at the top." Then he wrenched the blade out of Bushido's chest.

A geyser of blood erupted from his chest and momentarily blocked his field of vision. With no support, Bushido fell into a heap on the deck. He coughed up more blood and tried to stem the flow of blood from his chest.

Yoru had entered his chest horizontally, unlike the one on Hitsuzen: which had been a vertical slash. It was shallower too and he was pretty sure it hadn't done anything more than lightly nick any major internal organs.

Still, it hurt like a bitch.

Bushido was no stranger to pain but this wound was one of the more painful ones he had received, and that was with adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He took in a trembling breath at how much blood was still spurting out through his trembling pale fingers. This was bad, he needed to tell Luffy about Nami.

He spited out more blood as he rose to his knees ignoring the surprised look MIhawk shot him. "Luffy!" He roared, "can you hear me?" Nami's gone after Arlong! Save her!"

The green-haired man fell down, dead to the world around him, as he sank into unconsciousness.

* * *

Dracule Mihawk sheathed Yoru over his back, a myriad of emotions flowing through him. His usual mental sharpness had finally returned to him, the mental fog of exhaustion that had dulled his wit temporarily banished.

Banished by the thrill of a true battle.

Banished by Roronoa Zoro.

What little sleep he had gotten over the last few days had been dominated by the weird visions. Many of which had been focused on the splashes the one called Roronoa Zoro made occur in the world. It had been maddeningly infuriating

Then while chasing down the last remnants of the fleet that had dared to annoy him, he had came across the location of his first vision. And a man that looked nearly exactly like Roronoa Zoro (give or take an eye).

Mihawk had, in hindsight, overreacted a small bit. He had blasted the lookalike with killing intent and tried to take his head off with Yoru. Even for the swordsman in the vision, that would have been too much.

But not for this man. He had reacted with the skills and reflexes of a New World Pirate, mastery of the two learnable Haki's to boot. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Roronoa Zoro was one of the greatest swordsman out there.

Just not the greatest.

Dracule Mihawk listened as the defeated man ignores him completely and focuses on his captain, roaring something about a Nami and an Arlong. Zoro finally succumbed to his wounds and fell unconscious. Mihawk smiled and spoke under his breath. "What an interesting man."

He turned and began the walk back to his boat, pointedly ignoring the pissant of a captain he had been chasing threats and boasts of bravado. Maybe his sleep would be less disturbed from now on but he doubted it. The logical part of him still said that just sleeping without the pendant would solve the issue but his pride would not have it.

Whatever the pendant was, he would beat it like he had everything else in his life.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY NOW, YOU BASTARD!"

Mihawk felt his mouth fall open. Apparently, Roronoa's captain was just as interesting as the swordsman was.

* * *

Monkey D. Luffy couldn't believe the scene that was playing out in front of him. Zoro had lost, Strong, _unbreakable_ , Zoro had lost. Lost to some aggressive idiot in a stupid hat.

The man had came out of nowhere with his stupid black blade, one currently embedded in Zoro's chest, and tried to kill Zoro.

Luffy hadn't been concerned, why would he be? Zoro threw off an aura that proclaimed that no one could beat him. He was more mature and, Luffy suspected, stronger than him and knew about the world. Hell, he had taught him about Haki, something he had never even heard of before!

Luffy hadn't even followed the duel that closely in the beginning, confident in Zoro's skills and busy with his own opponent. Not that his opponent was skilled, just literally tough. The rotund man, Pearl, was covered in shields. Luffy's punches were slowly cracking the damn things, it would just take a while.

Then all the battles began to ebb as people began to watch Zoro's duel with the other guy, Mihawk. And that's when the rubber boy finally noticed.

How close the fight was.

And much to Luffy's disbelief, how this Mihawk guy was slightly better than the green-haired swordsman. Mihawk jumped impossibly high and swung his heavy sword with dancer's grace, hundreds of slashes raining down on Zoro. And Zoro had just stood there.

Thankfully, Zoro had been fine and the fight continued. Which lead to now: Zoro skewered on that damned broadsword

It was impossible. It just had to be. Zoro was Zoro, he was unbeatable. It was like a law of the universe, like you'd float without gravity or die without oxygen. And yet here it was, Zoro defeated. Luffy wouldn't be surprised to see pigs fly.

And then Mihawk ripped the sword out of Zoro's chest and there was blood. Oh, so much blood. And then Zoro was roaring something about Nami leaving as he collapsed. Luffy felt like everything was falling to pieces around him. He looked at Pearl's smug face and saw red.

He needed to get past this guy. Right now.

Luffy suddenly remembered a snippet of conversation he had had one night shortly after meeting Zoro.

" _So a rubber man," Zoro said out of the blue, "how does that work?"_

 _Luffy cocked his head. "Are you an idiot? I'm rubber, I can stretch."_

" _I meant are you fully rubber," Zoro elaborated from his perch on the railing of their dingy, "like, are your organs and bones rubber?"_

 _Luffy paused. "I think so," he started slowly, unsure._

 _Zoro's visible eye latched onto his. "Could you make it bigger?"_

 _Luffy spots a cool looking dolphin and jumps overboard after it, all thoughts of bones and rubber forgotten._

Pearl is ranting. "You are going to lose here, you're nothing but gnats under the boot of the mighty Don Krieg."

Luffy bit his thumb. No time like the present to figure out if it worked. He breathed in deeply, imagining the bones in his arm enlarging. A strange feeling spread through his arm as he felt his arm grow heavier and heavier. He swung it behind him, not daring to look, and roared. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY NOW, YOU BASTARD!"

His arm, now the size of a small cottage, smashed into Pearl. The man's mighty armour instantly shattered and he was sent pinwheeling away through the air, blood erupting from his mouth.

Arm returned to normal size, Luffy sprinted over towards the fallen swordsman. Time seemed to slow as it took ages to reach him...or was that just his legs? Indeed, it seemed that his limbs had shortened, maybe because he had been messing around with his bones. Thankfully, his body returned to normal with a snap as he reached Zoro's side.

The deck was slick with blood and the rubber teen nearly slipped as he knelt down. Zoro's breathing was ragged as Luffy put his hands over the large wound, trying to stem the bleeding. "Doctor," he yelled, "somebody get a doctor!"

* * *

"You shitty idiot," Sanji muttered tersely as he watched the choreboy try and stem the swordsman's wound, "you must've known he was better than you, so why?"

He took a glance around: everyone was still mesmerized from seeing a duel of such level. But that would not last for long. He glanced at Gin, who was still looking at Mihawk with something akin to fear, and sighed. This was really not his style.

But, suddenly, the damned marimo was more important than Gin. With a heavy heart, he raised his leg high into the air and brought the heel down upon the crown of Gin's unprotected head. Don Krieg's right hand man went down like a sack of potatoes

"Sorry," he muttered, "but I need to end things quickly." In the current fighting none of the Baratie's few chefs with doctoral training would be able reach Zoro. And that shitty wound wasn't the sorta thing you slept off.

Starting with a running jump, Sanji rushed through the lethargic battlefield, weaving through the men who were just now resuming brawls. Don Krieg was just ahead of him now,

Krieg's eyes widened as he finally noticed Sanji's progress. "Stop that man," he bellowed, pointing angrily at the blond cook. A line of smallfry charged at Sanji, issuing warcries.

The sous chef easily leapt over them with ease, and landed on the deck of Krieg's ruined ship. "Poitrine Shoot" Sanji yelled, smashing his right leg into Krieg's ribcage.

He noted, with immense satisfaction, that the golden armour cracked and shattered under the pressure of his shoe

* * *

Roronoa Zoro had been resting in his mental plane when a loud crash roused him. His older self had appeared. But, compared to the man's usual visits, there was a noticeable difference.

He was unconscious. Wado Ichimonji clattered out of the intruder's hand and rolled away. Zoro hesitated for but a moment before coming to a decision. It was his body and he had every right to control it.

He seized the hilt and was whisked away.


	10. Chapter 10

Zoro groaned as he awakened. His body felt sluggish and tired. He tried to move and every nerve ending in his body screamed in protest as his chest banged against metal. His eyes felt like they were glued shut and wouldn't open no matter how much he forced them. He tried to curl his fingers and toes and, after about a minute of struggling, succeeded.

"Did Don Krieg really hurt you this badly? I know he had a lot of manpower but he seemed more like a guy that was all bark and no bite…" A female voice asked him hesitantly.

Zoro flinched back, he hadn't known anyone else was in the room. "Who's there?"

He could practically hear her frown. "It's me, Nami. The one you boldly proclaimed you'd rescue, remember?"

Zoro grimaced at the revelation. So this was one of the pirates his older self had befriended. He managed to stick out his tongue and lick his cracked lips, he had been hoping to slink away without any confrontation. "Remind me, what would this rescuing involve?" He'd do it if it was some small time pirate crew.

"Are you serious? Did you hit your head or something? You made a whole speech about defeating Arlong and then you forgot all about it? Unbelievable!"

Shit.

Zoro knew that name. It was the name of a Grand Line Fishman pirate who was rumored to be somewhere in East Blue. He had a bounty of twenty million beri. A huge amount and, if the Fishman was in East Blue, the highest in the ocean. And that was the question, wasn't it? Was he still in East Blue or had that asshole already taken his body to the Grand Line. "And where are we?"

"Seriously? We are in Arlong Park, nitwit." The woman sounded exasperated.

With a grunt, Zoro finally succeeded in opening his eyes. He noticed three things as his vision came into focus. Firstly, he was wearing an eyepatch or something similar. Secondly, he was tied to a pillar with a chain. Thirdly, the woman.

The woman had a slim hourglass figure and was of average height. She had orange hair and light brown eyes. She wore a green camisole, black pants and high-heeled sandals. Zoro would guess she was around late teens, early twenties. "So, um," Zoro said hesitantly, "who are you?"

The woman actually recoiled and something akin to fear appeared in her brown eyes. "Are you okay? How much damage did Don Krieg do to you?"

"I'm not injured," he protested, "just-"

"Bull," the woman interrupted flatly, "your injury is potentially fatal."

Injury? Fatal? The green-haired man craned his head down and tried to see a wound, but there was nothing. The chains blocked any potential injuries. He tried to move against the chain and shuddered as a paroxysm of pain swept through him. Okay then, definitely injured.

"What happened," he croaked, suddenly desperate for water.

The orange-haired woman glanced around before crouching down to his level. "You really can't remember anything, can you?"

Zoro shook his head. It was technically true, he couldn't remember anything that damn Bushido had done with his body. "No, no I can't."

"Okay then…again I'm Nami." The woman introduced herself, jabbing a thumb at her breastbone. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Zoro paused to collect his thoughts. "I was captured and held in a Navy base. I'd guess that it'd be a month or two ago." At least, he really hoped he hadn't been any longer than that.

The woman, Nami, frowned. "But you know Luffy?" You have to know Luffy, right?"

Zoro griminanced, Bushido had mentioned someone named that in passing once or twice. "No, I don't."

Nami gaped at him, looking like a fish out of water. "You don't know _Luffy_?" Nami spoke like this was blasphemous, like not knowing Luffy was akin to not knowing of Whitebeard.

"I've a feeling that this Luffy is important then?"

Nami looked thunderstruck. "Important? Of course Luffy's important!"

"How do we know him?" Zoro asked mildly, even though he had a damn good guess. But he technically had no way of knowing he was now involved in a life of piracy.

"You really know nothing. Luffy's our, your, _captain_." She stressed the word captain.

Ignoring the correction she made about him not being her captain, Zoro focused on sounding shocked. "Wait...are you saying I'm a pirate?"

"I'm not sure how to break this to you gently but yeah, you are. First Mate of the Straw Hat Pirates."

Zoro bit back a groan. This only got worse, not only was he indeed a crew member but he was a high ranking one too. There goes his chances of just slipping away. "And what do you do in the crew?"

"I was the navigator and, I suppose, the one in charge of the treasure."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. There it was again, her distancing herself from this crew. "Did you leave?"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

The conversation lulled into awkward silence for a moment. "So, tell me Nami. Why am I tied up like a prisoner?"

"You sorta are one, sorry."

The temperature seemed to drop expentunely. "I'm certain I just misheard you. Mind repeating that?"

The navigator awkwardly rubbed her shoulder and looked at the ground, her toes scuffing against the ground. "Yeah...my current crew captured you. Sorry?"

Zoro felt a massive migraine coming on, his hands instinctively went to massage his temple and he winced as they banged against the chains. "Give me my swords." He growled.

Honest confusion laced the girl's voice. "Swords? I've only ever seen you use one."

Zoro's eye flicked towards the sword hilt he had just noticed peeking around the Nami's shoulder. It was Wado Ichimonji. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he wasn't sure what he would have done if his old self had lost Kuina's blade. "I want it back. Now."

"Sure," Nami agreed easily, sliding the katana off her back and letting it clatter onto the ground, "I came over to give it back anyway. Now leave and don't come back." And just like that, the orange-haired woman slinked off through the imposing gates he could just see out of the corner of his eye and down the dirt track the island passed off as a road.

Zoro's hand snatched out like a snake and grasped the hilt, the sword a welcome familiar weight in his hand. He shook off the sheath and, with a grin, easily sliced through the cheap iron chains. And finally got a good look at his chest.

The swordsman's chest was covered in bandages, the centre of which was a dull red. Now that he was up and moving again, he could practically feel the thin stitches shifting. Zoro knew that the stitches reopening would be a bad thing, a very bad thing. He'd have to be careful to not go overboard.

He take a glance around the corner, taking in the base. A marble walkway was in front of the building and a large body of water lay beyond that. A bunch of hulking humanoids were walking around idylly. Zoro racked his memory to remember what they were. He snapped his fingers, Fishman. Definitely Arlong then.

The green-haired man felt a grin tugging at his lips. Hadn't Nami said something about him wanting to rescue her? He rolled his wrist and admired the way the sun reflected off Wado Ichimonji's blade, his older self had taken good care.

He strode around the corner, he could use the exercise. "Oi," he called out, instantly catching all of the Fishmen's attention, "anyone up for a spar?"

At unison, the enemy pounced.

Zoro smirked.

* * *

Luffy was still annoyed.

Well, that was misleading. He was begrudgingly over Zoro losing to the guy in the stupid hat but now he was annoyed by the island they had docked at.

They had left Zoro on the boat the Baratie cooks had given them with Johnny and Yosaku and had gone to explore. They had instantly found a destroyed village with seemingly no one around but a couple of weird guy with different colour skins and sizes. Who he had promptly beaten up when they had tried to attack them. They had said Arlong would kill them before they completely lost consciousness.

Then they got back to the boat to find Johnny and Yosaku beaten up and Zoro gone. Apparently more of those weird guys fromt the village had came and taken him away to Arlong Park.

There was that name again. Arlong. Whoever this Arlong guy was, Luffy was going to beat the crap outta him.

For Nami and Zoro.

That was another thing. Nami had left without saying a word to anyone other than Zoro and taken the Merry.

Honestly it was almost like she thought he would lose. And that was just silly. He'd decided as soon as he had seen the destroyed village what he would do, maybe even before that. Whoever this Arlong was, Luffy wasn't going to let this go.

He was going to find Nami and get her permission to kick the guy's face in.

Because there was no way Nami would leave without telling him if the reason was one that Luffy could agree with. Whatever the reason was, it was a bad one. This Arlong guy had forced Nami, directly or indirectly, to leave without saying goodbye. If Zoro hadn't somehow figured out she was going here then Luffy wouldn't know where to go. Arlong would've taken Nami away from them forever without even a goodbye note.

And that was not okay.

Luffy cracked his knuckles at the thought. He could currently count his entire crew on one hand.

And he'd fight the world for each and every one of them.

He heard Usopp mutter beside him. "Looks like we got company."

Luffy looked up sharply, ready to kick more ass. His body relaxed a bit when he saw a woman with blue hair blocking the dirt trail. Her face was marred with an ugly scowl as she took in the ragtag group. "What are you here for?" The woman challenged them as they drew closer, her eyes drifting to the tallest of their small group: Sanji. Obviously assuming him to be in charge.

Luffy took a step ahead of Usopp and Sanji, noticing the small spark of shock in her eyes. "We're for Nami."

"Why? She steal from you or something?" The woman's tone was light but the tenseness in her eyes was anything but.

"None of your business," Luffy replied, "either tell me where she is or move out of the way."

The woman laughed. "Or what, you going to hit me pipsqueak?" Luffy could practically hear Sanji tense at the idea of this woman being struck, "I doubt you'd make a dent in me," she mocked.

Luffy had grown up with mountain bandits that had pretended to be pillagers and murderers, he knew false bravado when the saw it. "Move," he commanded.

He could see the hesitation in her face, the automatic desire to obey the power in the order. After a moment of fidgeting, the woman stood strong. "I won't let you hurt her."

Luffy felt a smile tugging at his lips at the absurdity of the idea and knew he would've laughed in a more lighthearted situation. "I'm not here to hurt Nami. Just to bring her back."

The slap came out of nowhere, knocking his head to the side and making his cheek sting. He heard Usopp gasp. "She isn't an object," the woman spat with fury, "you can't just take a person."

Luffy took the woman's still raised trembling hand and gently brought it down to her side. "No," he agreed, "you can't. That's why I'm here."

For once real confusion blooms in the woman's eyes. "What do you mean?"

The rubber teen moved around her and set off at a stride. "Usopp, Sanji," he called over his shoulder as he walked, "you guys can hang back and explain if you want. I'm going to find Nami."

And that was it really. He didn't have time to stand around talking. He had to beat up that damned Fishman. But before that, he had another objective.

Making sure his navigator was okay.

* * *

Zoro sheathed his sword, took a cursory glance around to make sure that was the last of them, and collapsed with relief into a nearby deckchair. Sweat rolled down his face in rivets and his limbs felt lethargic. He gingerly placed a hand on his chest, ignoring the sharp jolt of pain the motion accompanied, to feel for blood.

He was safe. The stitches had held.

The swordsman forced himself to his feet, otherwise he'd just fall asleep from exhaustion. That fight had taken a lot out of him, far more then he would have liked. It had gone well at first, mowing through the generic enemies in his path. But then he had grown tired, barely blocking incoming strikes and not putting enough force into his own slashes.

As hard as it was to swallow, he was weak. He had just woken up his body far earlier than recommended. And he was paying the price. Zoro took one glance around the bloody courtyard, at least he hadn't lost. And hopefully that had followed the promise he had made to that Nami girl.

The swordsman knelt down and grabbed two low quality sabers from the recent battlefield. He sheathed them at his side and felt a grin form on his face. He felt complete again with the weight of three blades at his side.

He set off with a stride down the same pathway Nami had gone down. Momentarily pausing when the came to a crossroads. He quickly chose a direction and set off down one of the paths. It didn't matter which he picked, all paths lead to the sea eventually. Right?

A few crossroads later, he came across a group of people. A long-nosed teen in overalls, a girl with blue hair and a blond man in a suit. His ears prickled when he picked up they were discussing.

Nami.

He strode over. Maybe this was Luffy's group? Then the question arose which was Luffy? The girl was out for being, well, female. Luffy was a boys name after all. And the long-nosed guy was too meek looking.

With a sigh, Zoro revealed his presence. The blond and long-nose exclaimed his name in relief, joy evident in their faces.

"Luffy," he said gravely, looking at the well dressed man, "I'm leaving the crew."

.


	11. Chapter 11

His eye snapped open and Bushido was instantly pushing his body into a forward roll, following it up with a leap to his feet. He scanned his surroundings for enemies before his brain caught up with his body. His muscles relaxed and he sighed, running a hand through his green hair as he did so. Right, he had lost to Mihawk. _Again_.

Bushido looked around the empty void in silence. He was going to be here for a bit, he'd wager. A wound that bad would probably take at least a week before his body was ready for him to return. Bushido girminanced, while the week would probably only feel like a couple of hours here it would still be awkward sharing space with his younger self. Speaking of...where was he?

A cold feeling spread through his body with a shudder as an unwelcome thought entered his mind. What if Zoro had left? "Don't be ridiculous," he thought outloud, "he'd need Wado Ichimonji to leave…" Bushido trailed off as his eye looked at his sheath.

It was empty.

"Damn."

* * *

Luffy let out a sigh of relief as he saw a village in the distance and one that hadn't been ransacked and pillaged either. Luffy had been wandering around for the better part of an hour without any sight of civilisation. He had begun to think that he would never find a town.

Luffy squinted as he drew closer to the village, it seemed that a crowd had gathered in the street. He tensed as he noticed the numerous weapons being hoisted in the air, that couldn't be good. One man (and was that a pinwheel on his head?) seemed to be giving a speech to the gathered crowd. Luffy's ears picked up the tail end of it "-And I, we, won't stand for it! To Arlong Park!" The man roared.

The crowd issued their war cries and charged down the street in the opposite direction of Luffy, kicking up a small dust storm as they moved. The dust made the back of his throat itch and his eyes water. Blinking, he waved the dust away. His eyes narrowed.

Nami.

His navigator had fallen to her knees, knelt in the spot the angry mob had occupied just moments before. Her entire frame seemed to tremble and Luffy, with a grimace, noticed she was clutching a dagger in one hand. Nami's free hand shot up to her left shoulder and grasped at the marred skin. She had a tattoo, a blue shark design that swirled around her upper left arm.

It was Arlong's, Luffy was sure of that. He didn't know how he knew but he did. Arlong had marked her with his filth forever, a sign of how he owned the orange-haired woman And that was an uncomfortable realisation Luffy had come to when they had arrived and seen the town destroyed by Arlong over a bit of money. Nami would never help that sort of person willingly.

He watched as Nami raised the dagger and, without an ounce of hesitation, brought it down full force on her shoulder. Luffy felt his fear disappear, Nami hadn't been broken by Arlong. She still desperately wanted freedom something the rubber boy was happy to give.

The bloodied dagger came down again, an inch from flesh. Luffy's arm whipped out and caught the navigator's wrist, holding the arm in place. Nami turned her head slowly to meet his, tears were running down her face. "Leave," she ordered, her voice trembling, "leave this island right now."

"No."

Nami's free hand punched against the ground and there was frustration laced in her voice when she spoke. "I never asked you to help me."

"No," Luffy said, absentmindedly taking off Shank's hat and studying it, "you didn't."

Her hand trembled and clutched at the dirt. She threw a fistful behind her, fine particles flying into Luffy's face. "Then why?"

"Because you're Nami."

Nami stiffened as if a lightning bolt had hit her. "Luffy…"

"Yeah?"

The words were choked and full of emotions and promises. "Save me."

The hat of promise landed on her head and the orange-haired woman's shaking fingers rose to hold the brim. Luffy turned to face the direction the mob had run off in. His eyes lit up when his suspicions were confirmed.

His crew stood in front of him, ready for action.

Zoro was leaning against one of the white house's, bandanna tied around his forehead. He was shirtless and so Luffy could see the wads of stained bandages covering the gaping wound that MIhawk has given him. Three swords hung at his side, two unfamiliar. Curiously, the red outline of a shoe print was visible on his scowling face and his nose seemed oddly crooked.

Usopp had sat himself down on a bench on the other side of the road from Zoro. Sweat was clearly visible on the teen's tremoring body and he was nervously fiddling with his slingshot. Still, he shot Luffy a lopsided grin when he noticed the rubber boy.

Luffy's newest crewmate stood in the middle of the road, directly in front of Luffy. He cut an impressive figure, all sharp angles as the wind blowed and tugged at his rumpled suit. The cook was smoking a cigarette. Sanji finished the drag and tossed the cancer stick to the ground, grinding it under his sole.

Luffy couldn't describe how he had known that his crew would be waiting for him when he turned around. He just had. It hadn't been Observation Haki to his knowledge. No, it had been something deeper. Something primal. A certainty in his gut that his friends were behind him, every step of the way.

And in that moment, Monkey D. Luffy knew that he wanted to share his adventures with these people for the rest of his life. Not just to One Piece and their dreams, but beyond even that. Together right until the very end.

And with Nami's cries ringing through their ears, Luffy spoke. "We're heading for Arlong Park."

Usopp managed a grin. "I suppose we have no choice."

"Damn right we are," Sanji practically snarled, "no one gets away with hurting a lady around me. No one."

Zoro remained silence but he moved forward from the wall, supporting his own weight again.

And they began to march down the road. With no coordination, their footsteps fell into sync naturally. Nothing was said, nothing had to be. The knew what they had to and how to do it.

Luffy cracked his knuckles. Arlong would pay.

He would make sure of it.

* * *

Zoro felt...unsettled.

He wasn't sure what that had been but it hadn't been natural. There had been some sort of strange understanding between them. Even though he wanted nothing to do with this group, the boy's words had struck a chord deep within him that had resonated throughout every fiber of his body.

There was complete and utter silence as the four of them walked down the road. The boy in overalls was clutching his slingshot, knuckles white. The boy, his captain, was stone-faced: no hint of emotion in his eyes.

Luffy wasn't what he had been expecting, to say the least.

He had been expecting a giant of a man, someone who could bend his older self to their will. Instead, he had gotten a runt. He felt cheated somehow.

The blond, and Zoro had to fight back a rising blush as he remembered the situation earlier, has his hands stuck in his jacket pockets.

Zoro shuddered as he thought back to the incident. That was the last time he was ever going to assume anything.

" _Luffy," he said gravely, looking at the well dressed man, "I'm leaving the crew."_

 _The blond man's long fingers, like that of a pianist, reached into his pocket and pulled out a single cigarette. His other hand retrieved his lighter, a tacky gold thing, and lit the cigarette. Luffy took a long drag of the cigarette and Zoro was unnerved at how well his captain was taking it. "Luffy?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice._

 _The finished cigarette fell down onto the dusty country pathway and Luffy sighed, an exaggerated melodramatic sound. The well-dressed man snapped his right leg out at a nearly horizontal angle and then raised it above his head, Zoro craned his neck just to see the foot that seemed to block out the edge of the sun with the height it rose to._

 _Then, with a crunch, said foot slammed down at nearly sonic speed into Zoro's face. Blood bursting from his mangled nose as his body was sent flying back onto the road. He had to bite back a scream as black spots danced across his vision and paroxysms of pain swept through his wounded body. "Screw you," he managed to groan out between gasps of breath._

 _Luffy looked down at him, distaste visible on his face. "Stop being an idiot, I've no times for jokes. We need to save Nami-swan."_

 _Joke? Who the hell was joking? Almost as if he heard the swordsman's unspoken question, the teen in overalls spoke. "Sanji," he said, shooting Zoro a concerned glance, "that seemed a bit...harsh."_

 _Sanji? Then that wasn't Luffy? Then….his good eye flicked towards the curly-haired teen with the slingshot. Surely not? As if on cue, the blond man, Sanji, responded. "Usopp, did you not see his fight with that guy with the huge sword? I'm sure he's strong enough to take one of my kicks."_

 _He had fought a guy with a huge sword? Is that how he had been wounded? "Exactly," Usopp shot back, "did you not see that fight? I'm surprised he's still alive and we really don't need you kicking him!"_

 _Brushing his questions aside, Zoro unsteadily rose to his feet. He'd be damned if he remained a bystander in this conversation any longer. "Where is Luffy?"_

 _Sanji barely glanced at him, instead focusing on the woman who hadn't taken part in the conversation yet. "Thanks for the help my dear, we'll be on our way." And with that, Sanji strode off down the road without a backwards glance._

 _Usopp sighed and pinched his nose. "We better follow him, Zoro." And the teen set off behind Sanji. And so, with a growl, Zoro had ended up with no choice but to follow._

The green-haired man shook himself out of his memories as a building became visible on the horizon: the infamous Arlong Park. His hand went down and brushed against the hilt of Wado Ichimonji, the cold feeling of the hilt freeing his mind of the embarrassment from before. Leaving behind nothing but the thrill of the hunt. Still, a soft voice beckoned him as he held his cherished blade. And when he closed his eyes, it was almost like there was a second set of vision within. A blurry and grainy one but one all the same. And he had a feeling this new vision would have overlapped his own had he been less concentrated on the impending battle.

It was disorienting but ignorable. He'd deal with it later.

Zoro's eye narrowed as the mob came into view, they were standing outside the gates. Not storming the quayside stronghold, why? His eye bulged in its socket as two men came into focus standing in front of the gate. What were Johnny and Yosaku doing here? He gritted his teeth when he saw the sorry, bloody state they were in. Had Arlong done this?

The crowd parted before Luffy as he strode ahead of them, their faces full of anxiety and a tinge of hope. "Yo," he greeted Johnny and Yosaku, "didn't expect to see you two up so soon."

"Heh," Johnny muttered, "we came to and headed here for revenge."

"But we were defeated." Yosaku continued off Johnny's sentence without a pause. "When we saw a crowd appearing on the horizon, we know we had to stop them."

Luffy nodded and raised his fist. With two titanic blows, the stone wall had been reduced to mortar and dust. "Which one of you is Arlong?"

"I am," a cold voice called out from out of Zoro's view and the swordsman moved forward, ready to enter through the hole as soon as Luffy moved. "And you are?"

"Luffy, a pirate." The boy replied, stepping forward.

"And what does a pirate want with me?"

Zoro blinked at an unfortunate time and missed it. Luffy had sped forward and socked Arlong in the jaw, sending the fishman rocketing into the far wall.

Zoro walked forward through the hole, Usopp and Sanji at his side. And that was when he got his first good luck at Arlong.

The Fishman was light blue in colour, his most distinctive feature being his saw-shaped nose jutting out from his face. He had long black hair that went past his shoulders. He wore light, fashionable clothing that even Zoro, with his limited fashion knowledge, recognised as expensive. "Men," Arlong grunted, cupping a hand to his bloodied and bruised cheek, "get them!"

The remaining fishman roared and, Zoro noted with pride, there were less than there had been earlier. He had put a large dent in their forces with his rampage earlier. He noticed Sanji leaping ahead to kick away some more of the enemy pirates, Usopp seemed to be rooted to the spot beside Zoro.

Zoro drew his good sword and was slicing through the foreign entity before he had even registered what had been fired at him, black ink splattered down either side of him. His free hand grabbed his bandanna and tied it around his head, he felt like this was going to be a tough battle. His eye darted to and fro, searching for his attacker. Zoro quickly identified him.

It was an octopus Fishman with pinkish skin and an odd star-shaped hairstyle. Zoro's excitement grew when he saw six sword sheaths at the Fishman's side. This was going to be a proper battle. The other members of Arlong's crew seemed to part as the six sword user approached Zoro. "Hachi," one whispered, "he's the one who killed all the others."

The Fishman, Hachi, grunted, "I know," and drew his swords: his six arms flexing as he did so. "I'll make him pay."

Zoro placed Wado Ichimonji in his mouth and drew his other two temporary swords. Zoro could feel the blood rushing through his veins in anticipation. "You can try," he said, "but you'll make your life forfeit as a result."

Hachi responded by shooting more ink at him and moved in to attack as Zoro was cutting through it. Zoro's three swords barely blocked Hachi's six, his muscles screaming in protest as the stalemate dragged on. Hachi finally jumped back and Zoro took the chance. "Onigiri!"

Hachi slammed all six blades into a defensive position and Zoro cursed as the screech of metal on metal assaulted his ears as his attack was stopped. Hachi spat another glob of ink into his face and Zoro stumbled back, cursing. His two temporary swords clattering to the ground in his haste to clear his vision, furiously rubbing at his face.

He saw the blurry and hazy outline of Hachi raise his swords high above his head. Zoro felt a cold weight settle into the bottom of his stomach even as he spat Kuina's blade into his right hand to try and block the killing blow. But he knew it was futile, he would never recover in time.

He was going to die before becoming the World's Greatest Swordsman. He was going to break his promise to himself. To Kuina.

Time seemed to slow to a snail's pace as Zoro exhaled. Suddenly, though he was blinded, he could _see_. No, not see: sense. He could sense the entire battlefield. Luffy was trapped in the floor, Sanji was fighting underwater and Usopp was retreating with a Fishman hot on his tail. And he could sense Hachi.

Hachi and his six swords.

He could see exactly how and where each would fall before it happened and Zoro grinned. Hachi would be wide open just before Zoro was beheaded, and that was exactly what Hachi intended to do. He was certain of that.

And later in Impel Down, the captured members of the Arlong Pirates would discuss the strangeness they saw that day. They would whisper of the way Roronoa Zoro seemed to gleam black as he defied death. Encased head to toe in obsidian,clothes and all. But had lasted but for a moment and until the day they died they would never agree if it had been a trick of the light or something more…

Zoro felt oddly serene as he felt metal brush past either side of his head, brushing the edge of his hair. Like a viper, his right arm struck out like lightning. Pain exploded through his being as he felt metal shred through his shoulders and into the edges of his neck, he could his blood bursting from his body. At the same moment, Wado Ichimonji slide easily through the Fishman known as Hachi and impaled him in the heart, the edge poking out the six sword user's back.

Zoro fell back and crashed onto the stony ground, blood pooling out under him. He felt laughter bubbling from his throat and erupting from his mouth.

He had won.

The darkness finally claimed him, a blood-stained grin on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Bushido was loathe to admit how powerless he was in this situation. He had no way to get in contact with his foolish younger self and he didn't want to remotely try and force control: the human mind was a fragile thing after all.

He estimated that it had been an hour, give or take, since he had awoken to find himself trapped. Who knows how much damage the younger Zoro was causing in the real world? Potentially, the headstrong swordsman could cause a lot of heartache for him.

Arlong Park was a sensitive matter. It was a horror of Nami's past and also the moment the Straw Hat Pirates had officially became a single working organism, rather than a ragtag group of nobodies working together. Bushido could still vividly remember the walk to Arlong Park, his spine shivered as he remembered the way their footsteps has fallen into synch as they had marched down that dusty road to save Nami.

He ran a hand through his short green hair and sighed, he just had to hope his younger self kept his damn mouth shut. It was a fool's hope. He remembered the lack of tact he had had, and still did to an extent, back then. The chances were slim to none.

The all encompassing darkness seemed to shimmer and _bend_ as the man of the hour appeared a few metres away, Wado Ichimonji landing beside one..

Bushido strode over and assessed his younger self with a frown on his face. Roronoa was out cold. There was no way of telling how injured one was in the mental plane but if Bushido knew his younger self, and he did, then Zoro was probably badly injured.

Bushido forced himself from reaching out and taking back Kuina's sword for himself. He just knew that his body wasn't ready for use yet. No way in hell after the wound from Mihawk and whatever damage Zoro had done since.

As much as it pained him, he was going to have to rest. A week, he decided with a frown, he'd wait a week. There was the chance that Zoro had left the crew and, if so, Bushido would need the weeks rest to push his body to catch up to Luffy.

And the raised another problem. He had no way of knowing how long a week was. Guess correctly and Luffy would be at Loguetown but guess incorrectly and wake up with a body too injured to move or a world where Luffy had already reached Sabaody and the crew was separated. Everything could rest on Bushido guessing time correctly.

His eye snapped to his younger self as a groan reached his ears, the nineteen year old was sitting up and rubbing his face. Bushido's hand snapped out and picked Zoro up the hem of his white shirt. The younger swordsman's eyes widened as Bushido growled. "What did you do?"

Zoro's eyes reduced to slits, a familiar cold steel appearing in them. "I did nothing," he snarled, futilely trying to pry apart Bushido's fingers, "let me go."

Bushido's hand crawled upward, moving from the shirt's hem to the edges of Zoro's windpipe. "Did you leave the crew?"

"Find out for yourself, asshole."

Bushido's hand, now fully wrapped around Zoro's neck, closed. "Don't test my patience. Now answer the question."

"Maybe." It wasn't a gruff avoidance of the question. Zoro was, as far as Bushido could tell, telling the truth. He honestly didn't know if he had left the Straw Hat Pirates. Bushido threw him a few metres across the void.

"How do you not know if you left a pirate crew!"

Zoro sat up, rubbing his throat and glaring. "A lot happened in a short amount of time, okay?"

"Ah, yes." Bushido's voice was deceptively pleasant. "And how did Arlong Park go?"

A shimmer of emotion entered Zoro's eyes but was gone before Bushido could identify it. "That Luffy kid is interesting. I sorta see why you followed him."

"Did you fight against the Arlong Pirates?"

"Yeah." His younger self answered in monosyllables, unwilling to part with the information.

"Of course you did. I assume you lost?"

"No," Zoro said, "I just about won."

"You beat Hatchan in your body's condition?" Bushido felt a grudging respect at the achievement.

"The octopus Fishman? Yeah, I killed him."

And just like that, the respect was replaced with all-consuming rage. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pinned Zoro beneath him with a roar. "Do you know what you have done, you fool?" He hissed.

"Get the hell off me!" In his anger, Bushido had left himself wide open. Zoro's leg shot up and sunk into the older man's gut. Winded, Bushido fell back with a curse.

"This is why I didn't want you in control!" Bushido ranted after regaining his balance, "the smallest change has far-reaching consequences!"

Zoro sneered. "Don't exaggerate, that guy was just a henchman."

Bushido clenched his shaking hands, his nails digging into his palms. "Don't speak of things that you do not understand, _boy_." The last word was said with utter loathing.

Zoro's eyes darted to the discarded Wado Ichimonji, it now lay in between them. "Screw this." Zoro said, and dived for the katana.

Bushido Soru'd in front of it and held out his arm, letting Haki form over it. The familiar crunch of bones breaking filled the air as Zoro's face made contact with Bushido's forearm. The younger man crumpled to the ground, unconscious. "Shit," he muttered softly, his mind racing. What were the consequences of being injured inside the mental plane?

Bushido sat down cross-legged, and rubbed his face. He once again fought back the urge to take his sword and awaken, consequences be damned. But he needed the extra time to bode.

And he had a lot to bode over.

* * *

Nami tried to her best to enjoy the sights and sounds of Loguetown, with its loud merchants and their vibrant wares.

She really tried.

But she just couldn't. Everytime she tried on clothes or bartered with shopkeepers it happened, the image of Zoro's confused face as she explained where they were and who she was popped into her head. She had tried to block the images out but they'd only come back with a vengeance: with Zoro's cold, murderous eyes (the ones used on only his enemies) staring at her from the back of her mind.

Zoro had seemed so angry, so furious. Angry at her, angry at Arlong, angry at the world. Rage had seemed to pour off him in waves and Nami was reminded of the old tales of Roronoa Zoro.

 _The Pirate Hunter is a monster, plain and simple. Blood flows in his wake like a river, sanguine fluid coating all. His multiple swords slice and dice through objects like butter. Mountains, forests, towns...people, it matters not to Roronoa Zoro_.

It had been hard for her place Zoro, the gruff pirate who had a secret soft side, with the _Pirate Hunter_ , the demon who bathed in corpses. But in the moments after Zoro had woken up, Nami had known. If Zoro had been healthy enough to bust out of his chains, he would've destroyed Arlong Park and her by extension.

She had tentatively broached the topic with Luffy as the teen had sat by Zoro's bedside. Luffy had looked confused, his head tilted to the side, and had said that he hadn't noticed anything odd with Zoro. Though, he admitted, he hadn't interacted with the swordsman much during the incident.

So Nami had turned her attention to Sanji, recognising the shoemark on Zoro's face to belong to the cook. Sanji had poured her some lemonade and shrugged his shoulders and said that he didn't know Zoro well enough to comment on any odd behaviour but that green-haired swordsman had made an odd joke. When pressed, Sanji had frowned and said he had called him Luffy and said he was leaving the crew.

Horrified, Nami had turned to the last of the crew. Usopp had known Zoro for a while and had interacted with the amnesiac version. Usopp had been fiddling with some metal when she had approached him with questions. The sniper had put down his materials and sighed. He was serious, Usopp had murmured at such a low volume that she had nearly missed it, Sanji took it as a joke but it wasn't it all. He was deadly serious and that scares me.

Nami was full to the brim with questions but Zoro slept on and on. It had been a week now and he still wasn't awake. Though, his wounds seemed healed now so it was only a matter of time. Nami just hoped that it was Roronoa Zoro who woke up.

And not the Pirate Hunter.

* * *

Instinctively, his hands were grasping at his bandaged covered body before he had even opened his eye. He opened them and immediately closed them because of the shaky double vision that came from having a blurry eye. Covering the offender with his hand, he found his stereotypical pirate eyepatch on the dressing table. After putting it on and double-checking that he had ripped off all the stained bandages, he looked at himself in the mirror.

He was dressed only in a pair of briefs, which gave him a great view of his toned body and its new additions. First was the scar from Mihawk's wound, an ugly beast that covered the centre of his chest. It ran deeper than his old one and he frowned when he tapped it, the muscles were weaker there and would have to be retrained. Surprisingly, there were a second set of scars…

These were more reminiscent of the type Mihawk had given him in the old timeline, long but not as deep. They started at the back of his shoulders and were deepest there before thinning out as they headed towards either side of his neck. It looked like he had nearly been decapitated

Bushido had a sinking suspicion that that was exactly what had happened.

He had more important things to dwell on however and so he walked onto deck, after grabbing his sword. A glance at the scenery assuaged all his fears. He was aboard the Going Merry and Loguetown was stretched out in front of his eyes. By the position of the sun in the sky, he figured that it was still early in the day.

Activating his Haki, he let it wash over the port town in front of him. He quickly deactivated with a hiss, hands automatically going up to cover his face. His balance shot, he wobbled and nearly fell over. He had been expecting to easily find the familiar aura's of his crew and the Buggy-Alvida Alliance but, and it was a big but, he had forgotten one rather important detail.

Monkey D. Dragon. Or rather, Dragon's strength.

The Revolutionary Army's Leader aura encompassed the entire town, its blinding light destroying any chance of finding anyone in the town. Bushido cursed as Plan A crashed and burned before it even began. He liked Plan A too. The idea of defeating Buggy and his cronies, nabbing his swords, getting Luffy to the ship and talking to Dragon before Smoker noticed would've been satisfying.

Ah well, newly minted Plan B it was. Plan B aka "Get swords and just camp out at execution stand until Luffy arrives".

Bushido quickly used Soru to flicker to the town's main street. Two things immediately came to his attention. One, a port town had no lack of weapons shops. And the familiar call of his swords were being blocked out by Dragon. And two, as the sudden silence and plethora of horrified gazes assured him, he was still only dressed in a pair of briefs.

To make a bad situation worse, his landing had toppled someone over. A someone who was on eye level and only an inch from his crotch. A someone who happened to be Tashigi. Bushido mulled over his options for a half a second.

He bolted.

"Get back here, pervert!"

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Bushido collapsed against an alley wall. Sweat pouring down his body, he gasped and clutched at his knees. He had managed to snatch a simple pair of denim pants, sandals and a black t-shirt from a vendor during the chase.

Tashigi had been very persistent in her desire to apprehend him, calling in an entire platoon of marines to help bring him down. Bushido was honestly shocked that the mass hysteria hadn't made Smoker appear. Bushido could only theorise that whatever Luffy was up to was causing even more problems.

Bushido had also passed a gaping Usopp, who had spluttered out "Zoro?" As he watched the red-faced Tashigi chasing after him screaming that she was going to cut his junk off even if she had to chase him down to the ends of the earth.

Chasing him down to take Wado Ichimonji in one life.

Chasing him down to lob off his family jewels in another.

To- _mah_ -toe.

To- _may_ -toe.

Bushido grinned as he spotted a shop from the edge of the alley, from this distance he could heard the whispering beckons of his blades over the interference from Dragon's aura.

Yubashiri.

Sandai Kitetsu.

A reliable katana reduced to a rusty stub, left at the monument to the Rumbar Pirates at Thriller Bark.

A cursed blade that had killed all of its owners until Bushido, a sword he had lost in the massacre that was Hitsuzen.

Entranced, Bushido shuffled towards the shop with hungry eyes. His fingers were brushing against the door handle when a stray comment from a civilian pricked his ears.

"Hey, did you hear some kid is standing on the execution platform? Let's check it ou!"

Shit.

Smashing the door off its hinges in his haste, he sprinted into the small shop. The shopkeeper with a runny nose immediately pulled out his sword. "You'll pay for that, hooligan!"

Bushido's fist was already smashing into his face. The man fell to the ground, dead to the world for the next few hours. "Sorry," he said, "I'm running low on time."

He grabbed Yubashiri first, the sword seemed to hum in his hands. Evidently it had no problems with its new owner.

Next, he grabbed Sandai Kitetsu. The katana was instantly in his head and screaming about death and destruction, promising pain and bloodshed. "Shut the hell up," Bushido growled, his killer aura causing the room to grow cold. The blade seemed to mentally whimper and grow quiet, deciding to pick its battles.

Bushido nabbed three sheathes on his way out and put his three katanas into them before using Soru to head for the town centre. Despite the tenseness of the situation and the storm clouds now hanging in the sky, he felt a soft smile appear on his face. The weight of three swords at his side was welcome.

The smile turned into a grimace as he landed on the rooftop across from the execution stand. He was too late. Lightning was already streaking down from the sky and the green-haired man watched as the platform glowed a blinding blue before collapsing into a pile of metal.

Bushido had already hit the ground running, pushing and shoving to get to Luffy before Smoker had time to mobilise. In a surreal moment, he pushed aside a man with a mane of green hair and facial piercings. The future user of the Bari Bari no Mi, Bartolomeo. Second Division Commander of the Straw Hat Grand Fleet.

Ignoring the flash from the past (or was it the future?), Bushido easily hoisted the bemused rubber teen over one shoulder and put the strawhat across his back. He roared to a shocked Sanji to follow him. Luffy hopped off his shoulder a few seconds later and the trio dashed down the street towards the docks.

Bushido drew his blades as he spotted smoke condensing at an intersection ahead. "Run ahead," he told Sanji and Luffy before sending a simple air attack at the smoke, no Haki involved. The marine captain easily avoided the attack and took Bushido's bait, flying at him with his jitte. Luffy and Sanji easily running past, their paths free of any obstacles.

Haki coated his swords and Smoker barely had time to widen his eyes and put his jitte in his defensive position before Bushido was upon him.

"Rengoku Oni Giri!"

Jitte shattered, a bleeding Smoker collapsed to the ground. Bushido calmly sheathed his swords and grinned. It felt good to be able to use Santoryu again.

Now onto the last order of business. Bushido quickly Soru'd to a rooftop three blocks away. "Hello," he greeted.

If Monkey D. Dragon was surprised at getting his personal space invaded, he didn't show it. "Boy," he said, "I see you know Haki."

"Yeah, but excusing pleasantries if you would, I'm short on time. I have something important to tell you."

"Go on."

"It's about a boy who came into your vocation about ten years ago. Or more so, about his family. His brothers to be precise."

Dragon was silence, his eyes glittering.

"I am, of course, talking about Sabo."


	13. Chapter 13

The atmosphere onboard was tense yet festive, grim faces but faces still with small smiles and grins. Bushido himself was grinning, his mind filled with nostalgia as Reverse Mountain appeared on the horizon.

"This can't be right," Nami muttered as she studied her maps, "it just can't be."

"Let me see," Bushido said, grabbing her wrist, "I might be able to help."

Nami flinched as the contact and Bushido had to force himself to keep his smile fixed. What had Zoro done to scare Nami? "It's nothing really," Nami said softly, "it's just that it looks like the entrance to the Grand Line is a mountain…"

"Ah," Bushido said," that's because it is."

"I know it's silly-wait, what?"

"Yeah," he responded, "that's Reverse Mountain."

Nami stared at him, then at the mountain growing clearer in the distance, then back at him. "Come again?"

"A canal cuts up the mountain," the swordsman explained, "you need to ride up that canal and over it to reach the Grand Line."

Bushido blinked and missed the moment Nami went from happy and content mode to mass hysteria mode. "All hands to deck!" Nami bellowed at the rest of the crew.

The rest of the crew, who had been looking at the growing mountain with awe, rushed over. "What is it, my beautiful Nami-swan?" Sanji said, "your knight in shining armour is happy to help."

"We need to get ready to start moving the boat. Sanji and Usopp, you two go to the helm and await instructions. Luffy, bring in the sails a small bit. And Zoro, you just...you just make sure nobody screws up."

The crew nodded and split up, efficiently responding to the tasks they had been given. Nami exhaled and pinched the bridge of her noise. "Can't anything go right?"

Bushido laughed. "Hey, look on the bright side."

"What bright side?"

"You might've only figured it out seconds before we hit the mountain."

That got Nami to laugh. "Yeah, that definitely would've sucked."

The Going Merry was eased into position as choppy waves raged around them and rain beat down from a black, rumbling sky. A particular large wave smashed over the hull and Bushido had to dig in his heels to stay upright, salt spray blinding him. He distantly heard Luffy's infectious laugh.

Then they had reached the base of the mountain, a moment of horror when they scraped against the side and Bushido through he had miscalculated, and they were _off_. Slowly at first, but Bushido knew they'd soon be flying up towards the sea of adventure.

The Grand Line.

The sound of wood scraping on wood brought his attention to the centre of the deck, Luffy had dragged a wooden barrel and placed it down with a _thump_. Everyone but Bushido looked at him expectantly. Bushido could only smile softly.

"To be King of the Pirates," Luffy announced as a grin threatened to split across his face, his foot slamming down on the barrel's rim.

 _And you were. I made sure of that, at least._

"All Blue," Sanji said simply, his well polished shoe landing beside Luffy's sandal.

 _And this time you will find it. I swear it._

"To draw a map of the entire world," Nami stated proudly, her high heel coming to rest on the wood.

 _And this time, you will. Nothing will stop you from achieving your goal. Nothing._

"T-to be a brave warrior of the sea!" Usopp proclaimed suddeningly, his boot clunking down onto the barrel.

 _Bravery is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it. You were always brave, Usopp. And, by the end, the entire world knew too. As they will learn this time around too._

Stepping forward, Bushido let his boot fall down amongst the others as the top of Reverse Mountain appeared. "To be the best."

 _To protect them_

The barrel shattered under their combined weight and The Going Merry flew over the edge of the canal and, for the briefest of moments, the glittering sea was spread out as far as the eye could see. No sign of the storm they had just sailed through.

And then they were falling back down the other side, fog rolling over them. Bushido gripped Wado Ichimonji, his knuckles whitening. He would protect them.

"Hey," Luffy asked as they whizzed down the canal, " did anyone hear that?"

Bushido snapped his head towards the rubber boy. Laboon hadn't started groaning yet. "What do you mean?" Usopp asked, puzzled.

Luffy waved his hand in the direction they were heading. "That. Does anyone else hear that?"

Bushido's mouth fell open. Laboon hadn't made a sound yet. And that left only one real option.

Observation Haki.

Luffy had done it.

He laughed as Laboon's groans began to echo in the background, freaking everyone but LUffy out. "Good job," he told the confused teen, "I knew you could do it."

* * *

Usopp really should've expected it.

It made a certain amount a sense if you stopped thinking about things rationally. Of course there was a canal going up a mountain, why wouldn't there be? So, going off that skewed form of logic, it made perfect sense for there to be an iceberg-sized whale waiting at the bottom of said canal.

And, naturally, Luffy had punched it in the eye to get its attention. Naturally. When it came to the Straw Hat Pirates, the opposite of what was logical and rational was guaranteed to happen. Fact. And, logically, said whale would then eat them.

So, yeah, Usopp really should've expected it.

The maw of the great beast closed behind them, plunging Usopp's world into darkness. Luffy's angry yells instantly muffled, the loud sounds barely penetrated through the whale. "Oh hell," he heard Nami whisper beside him.

"Hey Zoro," the sniper said, "y'know that Haki stuff?"

"I know of it, yes."

"Could you use it to, like, glow?"

A bark of laughter. "Sorry, but no. What I can tell you is that we're going to pitch down this thing's throat in about five seconds."

"Bullshit," Sanji said as he, from what Usopp could tell, fumbled for a cigarette.

Usopp opened his mouth to agree with the blond cook when The Going Merry suddenly pitched forward, sending the small ship and its occupants spiralling down into the abyss.

And then all Usopp could do was scream and scream.

* * *

The afternoon (and there was a thought, what time was it? It had been night as they went up Reverse Mountain but now it was sunny?) had started out rocky. With the whole whale eating incident occurring and all that. But his day had gotten better. Oh yes, it had.

With the introduction of the seductive and mysterious Miss Wednesday, a blue-haired beauty dressed to the nines in shorts, a tanktop and a long coat. She had asked if she could accompany them until the next island and Luffy, the glorious man who would be getting plenty of extra meat serving tonight, had said yes.

And there had been some shithead in a green suit wearing a crown with the alluring lady. But he wasn't important.

What was important is that he had two beautiful swans to dote on for the rest of his days. Or, at least, until they reached this Whiskey Peak. But details, details. Forget All Blue, this was heaven.

"Hey, Sanji," Luffy called out, "I'm hungry. Make me something!"

"I'm busy," he snapped, sending a stray kick Luffy's way, "wait until dinner you shithead."

"Hey, no fighting," Nami-swan warned them, and oh how she was beautiful when she was annoyed, "you already broke one of these Log Poses earlier."

"But Nami," Luffy whined, and how dare he talk back to Nami-swan like that, "Sanji won't feed me."

"Sanji-kun," Nami-san practically purred at him, "give this airhead some food to quieten him down while I'm learning about Grand Line weather.

Hearts in his eyes, he spun away. "Of course, Nami dearest!"

"Perverted cook," Usopp stage whispered as the cook passed him.

Saji retaliated with a high kick that splintered that wall just above the sniper's head, sending wood shavings into Usopp's curly hair. "What was that?"

Usopp eep'd in fright. "I am very sorry!"

"That's what I thought." He entered the kitchen and smiled when he saw the beautiful Miss Wednesday sitting at the table with some tea. "Oh my lovely, why did you not fetch me? I would have gladly made you a refreshing drink and snack.

She smiled and the orange-haired man beside her snorted, the shithead. "No, I would not wish to inconvenience you," she murmured into her cup.

Sanji cooed at the mere thought of a sweet lady being able to inconvenience him a he grabbed a chicken leg for his dumbass captain. "Oh, my innocent sweet, you could never inconvenience little old me."

He issued her an air kiss and swept out of the small kitchen. He pranced down the steps two at a time, a goofy smile on his face. Surrounding by beautiful ladies and on the path to accomplish his dream, could anything ruin this day? A second later, he smashed into a burly chest.

Hitting the ground, Sanji glared up at the owner of said chest. Roronoa Zoro stared back, a bored expression on his dopey face. He was wearing nothing but his pants, a sweaty towel drying off his hair. "Oh, sorry," Zoro said, "didn't see you there."

Sanji sprang up with a curse. "Nudist!" He spluttered.

Zoro arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"How dare you expose yourself to the beautiful ladies?" Sanji roared at the stoic swordsman.

Zoro looked down, as if to see if he was wearing anything. "I know you're line of sight is a bit off because of your emo haircut," Zoro drawled, "but I am wearing pants."

"You can't insult my sight! You're half blind!"

Zoro shook his head in amusement. "Mocking a disabled person, how low you have fallen."

"Ha! So you admit to being disabled?"

"Ah, Zoro said, "but I can easily kick your ass, can't I? What does that say about you?"

Sanji's visible eye twitched. "I could take you."

Zoro only smiled. "I highly doubt that.

"Arlong Park begs to differ."

A flicker of emotion in Zoro's eye, gone before Sanji could . "Oh?" The voice and topic were still light but Sanji felt there was tension in the air.

"Still trying at the memory loss angle? I kicked your face in, remember?"

Zoro laughed, it felt hollow in the air. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Sanji waved his hand and moved past him, remembering Luffy's hunger. "Don't worry about it man, I overreacted to the joke."

He didn't notice the pensive look the swordsman shot him as he walked away.

* * *

"Captain Smoker," the panicked voice practically screamed in his ear, jolting him awake, "are you okay?"

He groaned in response, his spine popping as he sat up. He rubbed his eyes and spat some bloody phlegm onto the cobbled street. "I'm fine."

Tashigi looked down at him in worry, her fingers brushing over her sword sheath. "You sure? I patched you up to the best of my ability but I'm no doctor…" Tashigi trailed off as he shot her a glare.

"As must as I appreciate the help," Smoker said, glancing at his bandaged chest, "why didn't you bring me to the infirmary instead of an alleyway?"

Tashigi frowned at the admonishment. "Everything's gone to hell since the failed execution of Monkey D. Luffy and your defeat," she said, "the whole chain of command is shattered."

The Logia user cursed harshly. "How long have I been out?" He asked, looking at the edge of the sun appearing on the horizon.

"A few hours, sir."

Smoker stood up, swaying slightly as his legs called out in protest. "Fetch a ship," he barked at her, "we're heading after those pirates."

Tashigi saluted. "Yes sir!"

"And fetch me a Den Den Mushi," he called out after the retreating form.

He eyed his shattered jitte.

Marine HQ had to be informed that a no name rookie pirate had Haki.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note: A year into "Temporal Swashbuckeler" and I'm still blown away by the great reception this fic has gotten. I never could have imagined how popular it would become when I started to plot it out just over a year ago.**

 **Thanks for the great support and reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy "Temporal Swashbuckeler" over the next year!**

 **-Dying Grin**

* * *

Monkey D. Luffy was content.

Not that this was rare in itself, he often was content, but for the sure lack of other emotions. His contentedness was usually mixed in with some other emotion: happiness, excitement, laughter.

A byproduct of having such a lively crew.

But currently, as he scratched at his bloated stomach, he was purely content. HIs first proper island of the Grand Line and it was great. Okay, so maybe it had been lacking slightly in the adventure department but the people more than made up for it. They loved pirates! And if on some deeper level he found that suspicious, he squashed it down. He had resolved not to ruin the festive atmosphere with hostility and suspicion.

He had chosen to believe in the basic goodness of people. And it had paid off!

There had been a feast! With so much food that he couldn't not stuff himself with the contents. It would be hereditary. Wait...no, that didn't sound correct. Horrendous?

Heresy.

That was it.

It would have been heresy to refuse the vast amount of food. And so, here he was. Stretched out in the backroom of a bar. A dopey smile on his greasy face.

Content.

A blood curdling scream shattered the silence.

Luffy was instantly on his feet, eyes narrowed and hands curling into fists. A normal person might've shakily laughed it off and gone to bed, dismissing it as their imaginations. Besides, they were guests and nothing more. It would be the height of social rudeness to go off galavanting, would it not?

But Luffy wasn't a so-called normal person. He was a pirate and a pirate was no way bound to social regulations. Hell, they laughed at them. Laughed in their faces

The rubber teen started to make for the door but paused, a puzzled frown on his face. Said frown was directed at his enlarged belly. What had Zoro said again? Be prepared for any situation?

He hastily did some squats, his legs pumping furiously. With a satisfying pop, his grotesque stomach returned to its normal lean size and Luffy grinned. Cracking his knuckles, he ran out the door.

He never noticed the sudden traces of steam in the room or the way his skin seemed to softly glow pink for a moment as he left the bar.

He stood in the unnaturally still and empty street, the moonlight bathing him in its glow, and took in a deep breath. Slowly, he activated his new and inexperienced Observation Haki. For a second he thought it had failed but then the maelstrom of emotions smashed into him, it felt like standing in the eye of a tornado. Pain and fear whizzing around him. And there in the distance, was him. A blinding beacon of destruction.

Roronoa Zoro.

He was like a god amongst ants, and as if to prove that point several small life's around him were snuffed out at that moment, and Luffy froze. He knew, logically that there were people stronger than him. There had been no illusions of grandeur growing up about his strength level. He had been the bottom of the barrel compared to the company he had kept.

There had been his role model, Shanks. And through he had never seen the red-haired pirate go all out, the ease at which the had defeated mountain bandits left Luffy with no doubt of his strength. Then there was Gramps, who practically took pleasure in showing off how much weaker Luffy was compared to him. There was Ace with his thrice-damned three ages of experience over him, a fact he had often lorded over Luffy with. And there had been-

There had been Sabo.

And he really didn't want to think about his other brother right now. It would just make him sad.

But, aside from them, he had known that he was strong. As he entered his teens and began to gain control of the Gomu Gomu no Mi, he had began to think of himself as a big fish in a small pond.

And he had been certain no one on the crew was stronger than him. Sure Zoro had been wise and had known Haki but the green-haired man had also always deferred to him in decisions. Luffy was in charge so he was the strongest, made sense right?

Apparently, he had been wrong. Extremely so.

Because right now he was being completely engulfed by the sheer power that was Zoro. He felt like he could barely move, his limbs moving awkwardly and slowly like a fly trapped in honey. HIs breaths came in short, laboured gasps as he struggled to keep calm.

He cut off his Observation Haki and fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut, lifeless and pale. Sweat ran down his face as he took in the situation. His brain slowly and sluggishly refused to comprehend the situation. He slapped himself in the side of the face and the synapses seemed to take off, running a million miles an hour.

Roronoa Zoro was stronger than him and on a killing spree.

In another life, he would have looked at the carnage done to the people and felt nothing but anger. He would have charged off to face Zoro in combat, in his anger deaf to his friend's pleas. But that was not this life.

Shell-shocked, a sliver of doubt wriggled into his mind. What if these people weren't as nice as they seemed at first glance? What if is gut instinct, something he usually followed religiously, was right? What if these people had had bad intentions and Zoro had simply known that in the way Zoro knew everything and had taken them down?

Knowing he could spend all night pondering what-ifs, he stood up. Brushing down his shorts, he came to a decision. It was rather obvious realy. The only man with answers was Zoro so he would have to ask Zoro. Simple.

He shot out one arm and wrapped it securely around a nearby chimney, wincing at the brick's coldness. He landed on the tiled roof, his sandals gripping for purchase. A building exploded in the distance, reduced to rubble and dust. That'd be Zoro then. HIs hands snaked out and just about grabbed a tall building in the distance.

"Gomu Gomu no Rocket!

He shot off, the wind whistled in his ears. The streets below passed in a blur but his sharp eyes picked out the blood and bodies as he flew. An ugly frown formed on his face. Whether they were potentially bad people or not, this was too much.

But, at the same time, he noticed a lot of guns and swords. Far more than any civilian had any business having access to. But even then, the blood seemed to drown everything else out.

Zoro had a lot to answer for.

Unfortunately, as anyone who knew Luffy would tell you, the rubber boy was bad with debates

His forte was in the art of fighting.

Finally, he zipped over the tall building and for just a moment things seemed to stand still. He could see the aftermath of a fight stretched out below him. A bloody and unconscious bulky black woman, a fallen woman in a gaudy yellow dress, a bruised man in a red trenchcoat, a familiar orange-haired man in a tattered green suit, an unconscious man whom he recognised as the mayor and the girl they had picked up at Reverse Mountain. Thought she was only scared and not bleeding out, he'd give Zoro that much.

Zoro stood in the middle of the group, his three swords drawn and in position. Blood was sprinkled across his clothing like a painter would with paint. More disturbingly, while his eye was solemn, a faint grin was etched across his face.

Luffy bit his thumb.

"Zoro!"

And as the swordsman turned, the giant fist smashed into him.

* * *

The fist hit him at an angle, sending his body flip-flopping away into a nearby house. HIs back slammed into, and through, the cheap plaster in an instant. He sat up in what he dimly recognised as a living room. Cheap plaster rained down, shaken from the rafters, tinting his hair white.

Wincing, he stood up. He really should've used Haki to block the blow. He had forgotten how much of a punch Gear Third packed. Stretching his arms, he stepped outside. His eye scanning past Luffy and looking for his blades.

The pint-sized pirate glared up at him. "Hey, don't ignore me!"

The high pitch made Bushido wince. "DId you see where my swords landed?"

"Oi," Luffy growled, thought it came out more like a pout, "don't act so casual."

Ignoring Luffy, he walked over to Vivi. Alabasta's princess had caught one of his sword. His mouth opened, a crooked grin at its edge, and promptly shut. Vivi hadn't caught any sword. Oh no, she had caught Kuina's sword.

Wado Ichimonji.

The sword of memories.

The white hilt seemed to mock him maddeningly, glittering in the darkness. Vivi's face was a similar sickly white colour, her bright blue eyes impossibly wide. He noticed, with a jolt of alarm, that tears were leaking down from the baby blue edges.

What was the sword showing her?

"Vivi," he said, his mind running a hundred miles an hour. Flight or Fight was kicking in, his hand clenching and unclenching. "You okay?"

"Mr. Bushido," she murmured, "what's going on?"

And just like that, the desert princess started to cry.

Bushido knelt down to hug his old friend, unintelligible comforting noises coming out from his lips, when his ear pricked. HIs neck turned obsidian the second before Luffy's leg smashed into it from the side.

Luffy, now back to his original size, hissed and fall back. His sandal smoked and cracked in two, the parts falling to the ground with a _clunk_. "Luffy," he said, trying not to move his eye from the practically catatonic Vivi, "I'm sorry."

Luffy was expressionless. "For what?"

"I'm under no illusions, some of these people won't survive. I associate the Grand Line with stronger opponents and forgot that normal people are still a dime a dozen. Basically, I'm sorry."

And Bushido legitimately was. For the first time since he had arrived in this body he had gone to his full power, consequences thrown to the wind. He guessed he was around the level of his Dressrosa self: borderline Admiral level.

In his excitement, he had mowed through nearly every bounty hunter around. It was only Vivi's fearful face that had pulled him out of the euphoria he had been feeling.

A scowl. "I don't give a damn about that."

"You...don't?"

Luffy sighed, and in that moment seemed to appear far older than anyone his age had the right to be, and shook his head. "No, I don't," Luffy said, "when I hit you into that building, I made my decision. Who did I trust more? Zoro or some suspicious townsfolk we just met? I am annoyed that you killed people, yes, but not enough to hit you through a building for it."

Warmth blossomed in Bushido's chest. "Oh, thanks."

"What I am really angry about," Luffy continued, "is that you lied."

Oh. Oh shit.

"Luffy-"

Luffy had held up a hand, silencing Bushido. "You lied about your strength to me, to everyone. You're closer in strength to Gramps than me."

That made Bushido laugh, Garp was still far above his current power. Garp had the power of a Yonko. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Luffy."

Luffy took a deep breath and the world seemed to freeze on its axle and tilt at the teen's words. "Fight me. Full strength. Captain's orders."

Bushido was still, his mind racing for a way out of the situation. But, really, there wasn't and he knew it. Captain's orders were absolute. "Fine," Bushido said, the words heavy on his tongue and tasting of ash and curdled milk, "but you fight at full strength too."

Luffy shot him a puzzled glare. "I'm not using that inflaty limb thing. The downside after would instantly make you win."

Bushido shook his head, his eye still trailing over to VIvi and the way she tightly gripped Wado Ichimonji. "Not that," he said, "put your right hand on the ground."

Slowly but surely, Luffy crouched down and stretched out his arm to touch the ground. The pose was deeply familiar to Bushido and would go on to become iconic to Luffy's enemies. "Now what?"

"Feel out your blood."

"What does that even mean?"

"Imagine the blood pumping through your veins," the swordsman instructed, "got it? Good. Now, imagine the veins and organ starting to contract, the openings for the blood to pass are narrowing and the blood is getting faster and faster. Pumping to godly speeds to power your body…" Bushido trailed off.

Luffy was glowing pink, his sweat turning to steam and releasing into the air. Luffy looked thunderstruck as he took in his warm limbs.

Gear Second.

Bushido walked over to Vivi, picking up Sandai Kitetsu and Yubashiri along the way, and held out his hand. "Vivi," he asked gently, noticing the thrall the blade held over his old friend, "my sword?"

A moment of hesitation. "Mr. Bushido," Vivi said, holding out the sword reverently, "you and me are going to have a long talk after this."

Despite himself, Bushido grinned. "It's a promise." He turned on his heel and marched back towards Luffy before Vivi could respond.

Luffy's eyes were brimming with curiosity but he didn't ask any questions. Instead, the rubber teen held out one palm. "Ready?"

Bushido nodded, slipping his swords into position. "Yeah, start whenever."

Denying to respond, Luffy simply flickered out of existence. The teen rushed towards him at speeds rivalling that of a proficient Suro user.

He moved faster than any natural animal could move, faster than any natural animal could perceive.

Faster than a person should be able to move.

Luffy moved far, far too slowly.

Bushido's chest felt heavy as he watched Luffy's progress, his swords came into position. He noticed Nami running towards them, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silence scream.

"Rengoku Oni Giri!"

* * *

Things had not gone as planned, Robin reflected as she finished her observations. She cracked her neck and took one last long look around her from her precarious perch on one of Whiskey Peak's giant cacti before leaping off. One hand kept her purple cowboy hat in place as she landed, her legs absorbing the impact.

She strode off as soon as she gather her bearings, unwillinging to stay in the presence of Roronoa Zoro any longer than necessary. You didn't stay alive long in this business if you spent any time around the wildcards. And make no mistake, Roronoa Zoro was a wildcard.

She had read his files multiple times, a detailed dossier about his life: his personality, his quirks, his triggers, his skills, etc, all the way down to his favorite food.

And she was pretty sure everything in that folder was completely incorrect.

Roronoa Zoro was, to start, not a bounty hunter anymore. He was a member of a rookie pirate crew that had taken East Blue by storm. They had taken down both Don Krieg and Arlong, the so-called kings of East Blue.

The files were also very clear on his physical attributes, specifically his eyes. It was very clear that he had two fully functioning eyes, thank you very much. But, unless the eyepatch was a fashion accessory (which was always an option with pirates), then he clearly did not.

To give the files some credit, they hadn't been technically wrong when they called him the strongest and most skilled swordsman in East Blue. But it was like not being technically wrong when you said a Sea King was a fish.

Roronoa Zoro was, perhaps, the strongest person she had ever met. His overbearing presence that made her shiver from miles away, his mastery of the sword and his mastery of Haki.

Indeed, it would be fair to say that, in a straight up fight, Roronoa Zoro would easily defeat Crocodile.

This warranted some thinking.


	15. Chapter 15

The dawning sun rose over the picturesque ocean's horizon, all soft ambers and glowing purples. A small caravel with a sheep figurehead lazily bobbed up and down on the small waves, reminiscent of a toy duck in a bathtub.

Inside the ship, a certain desert princess had just collapsed into a chair by the kitchen table. Her usually high maintenance hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, a few sweaty strands falling down over her forehead.

An untouched and ignored steaming cup of cocoa was laid out in front of her, left there by an exhausted Sanji on his way to bed. Too physically and emotionally tired to make any real effort in doting over the newest lady addition to the close knit group.

Not that Vivi blamed him, not at all. Everyone was tired and the mood aboard the Going Merry was tense. Tenser than she ever knew it could be. Tenser than any of Mr. Bushido's memories had ever shown.

And why wouldn't it be? Nami had witnessed Mr. Bushido mowing down Luffy in what looked like cold blood. Out of context, that looked really bad.

Hell, even with context it wasn't exactly great. She wasn't even sure how she would phrase it. Oh, they were just fighting because Luffy figured out that Mr. Bushido has been lying to him since basically the word go. No, it would never work.

Besides, they didn't know her. Oh, they thought they did, the princess desperately in need of aid to save her ravaged country. But they didn't know the real her, the one who they would offer a position in their coveted crew to.

And that hurt.

So, she had been forced to watch as Luffy was carted off to their makeshift doctor's office (a secluded corner where the stored cooking supplies) while the one with the most medical knowledge (Nami) fussed over the raven-haired teen. She had been forced to watch as mistrust began to blossom between the usually ironclad crew. Without Luffy's guiding light, the others began to grow cold and distant.

For one heart stopping moment, she had been afraid Sanji would refuse when Mr. Bushido ordered for them to cast off. Terrified that Sanji would point blank insinuate that Mr. Bushido had tried to kill Luffy and a fight would break out. Then the moment passed and Sanji lit his cigarette with a shrug before moving on. Vivi tried to convince herself that it had been a trick of the light, a figment of her imagination. Tried.

The kitchen door creaked open, shaking her out of her dark musings. Roronoa Zoro slinked in, looking like a great weight was pressing down on him. Ignoring her, he moved to a cupboard near the fridge in search of alcohol. Vivi took those few seconds to observe her old and dear friend. Or was it new and dear friend?

He mostly looked the same as he should have, considering the timeframe, but there was a few subtle differences. Mostly, he looked like his Alabasta self should: cropped green hair and tightly packed, slightly tanned muscles that rippled when he moved. But said hair was starting to grow a bit longer down the sides and the muscles were more bulky than they should have been. Plus, the eyepatch. You couldn't forget the eyepatch.

All in all, he was well on the way to looking like post separation self.

God, the Separation. Separation with a capital s.

That hurt to think about. The mere idea of the Straw Hat Pirates losing a fight, especially after seeing their storm of Enies Lobby for Nico Robin (another kettle of fish altogether), was foreign to here. And yes, she didn't know them really so that was a strange thought in of itself. But, at the same time, she knew them better than they did themselves. Knew them from Mr. Bushido's memories.

She knew the future and what a powerful weapon that was, one no man or woman should naturally possess. Which led to the question of how exactly Mr. Bushido had came into the possession of them. Her blue eyes followed the tired man as he collapsed into a chair opposite her, his eyes haggard. "You must be brimming with questions." His voice was dour. "Ask."

A thousand and one thoughts and questions whirled through her mind but her mouth failed her. "How?"

"We died." His voice was blunt but held a trace of sympathy, he knew the news would rock her world.

It felt like the kitchen was spinning around her and she noticed her hands had gone pale. "How?" Her voice was choked.

"The traditional way mostly. Guns and bullets." The swordsman paused and grimaced. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

The next words stuck in her throat for a few seconds. "Where? When?"

"It was an island close to Raftel. We'd finally cross-referenced all four Road Poneglyphs, I'll explain later, and discovered Raftel's location. Technically, we could have avoided the entire fiasco. Our stocks would've lasted the trip. But Luffy wouldn't be deterred. He said he didn't want to be King if he had to skulk around like a thief in the night to get it. So, we fought."

"W-was." Her voice caught in her throat and she coughed, it was harsh grating sound in the otherwise silent kitchen. "Was it painless? For them?"

His smile was ugly, a twisted self-deprecating thing that made her shiver, as he swallowed some more whiskey. "I wish I knew. I was too busy trying to keep my insides inside, the only death I saw was Luffy's."

Luffy. Dead. The wrongness of those two words being together in the same sentence made her feel physically ill. "Was it quick.? Was it painless?" She wasn't sure why she needed to know, why she needed the closure. The only version of Monkey D. Luffy that she had physically

met was sleeping only a few rooms away, snoring his head off. But she did need the closure, desperately so. The sort of need she felt about having to save her country. One's that she wouldn't be able sleep well at night if they weren't fulfilled.

Mr. Bushido's eyes became distant and took on a haunted look, as if he was recalling a memory buried deep within the recesses of his mind. "Painful? Hard to tell, wasn't a lot left to be painful over." A bitter laugh. "Quick? Yeah, it was quick. I can attest to that much at least."

They sat in silence as Vivi absorbed the information. Wasn't a lot left? How exactly did Luffy die? Her mental musings were broken when Mr. Bushido leaned forward and focused his visible eye on her. "Anyway, how far did you get in my memories? From my experience, you just get flashes of moments. Must've been confusing."

"Yes, it's as you describe, flashes of events. But I think I got the jist of your adventures. You saved my home, and thank you so much for that, and continued on your way. You picked up Ms. All Sunday, sorry, Nico Robin as you left. From their you visited an island in the sky. You picked up a perverted shipwright and fought the world for Nico Robin. You saved a skeleton from damnation and were separated at an island filled with bubbles. You met a girl with the power to manipulate emotions (negative emotions) and...and you learned about Ace. How he died. How Luffy tried to save him without the rest of you and failed."

"Damn," Mr. Bushido said lightly, but his eye was squeezed shut, "you did get the jist of it. Was that the last thing you seen?"

"No, you were at some island under the ocean reunited with the crew after two years. But you took the sword back before I got any further." Vivi hesitated. "Mr. Bushido? Why does your sword tell the future, or, what I assume is the future? Did you somehow travel back in time or did you wake up one day with the sword suddenly giving you visions?

The green-haired man shrugged in the universal gesture of "Hell if I know" and gulped down some more whiskey. "Time travel."

"So, you did travel back in time!"

"Well, yeah."

Viv gaped at him. Did he not realize how huge that was? "You did the impossible."

"Not that impossible it seems."

Vivi shook her head, Mr. Bushido didn't seem to care how miraculous this was. "Anyway." She took a calming breath. "The sword?

The swordsman shrugged again. "I have a theory."

It took all of Vivi's patience not to snap. "Do tell?"

"The things I had on me when I was forced back came back with me."

Vivi wrinkled her forehead. "Your clothes?"

Mr. Bushido shrugged again, an action Vivi felt she would continue to see throughout this conversation. "Haven't been sewn yet I'd imagine."

"Then...just your sword?" She ignored the fact that he usually carried three swords, if she got bogged down in the details it would take hours for the conversation to finish.

Mr. Bushido tilted his head back and aimed the whiskey bottle at his open mouth, nothing came out. He frowned and tapped the bottle, still nothing. The man sighed and pinched his nose, setting the bottle down on the table with a thump. "No."

VIvi let out a very undignified groan. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Bushido drummed his fingers, his eye still on the empty bottle. "The cross pendant."

Vivi snatched the bottle in a ft of anger and rose, throwing it in the bin within a few strides. "What pendant?"

"Dracule Mihawk's pendant."

Her world spinning, Vivii sat back down. Dracule Mihawk. An infamous name by all accounts. A pirate who followed the Navy and its orders. A renowned swordsman. A stark figure with yellow eyes in ornate clothing, a black hat and black coat to match his bloodsoaked black blade. An enigma, a mystery to the general public. Dracule Mihawk. "H-how? W-what?"

Mr. Bushido's voice was dry when he answered. "What part are you unclear about?"

Vivi slammed her hand down on the wooden table, the sharp sound cutting through the silence kitchen. "Stop being so casual about this! Explain about the pendant. Now." She knew she was being bossy but she couldn't find it in herself to care very much.

The green-haired man's hand twitched towards the cupboards as if trying to summon another bottle of alcohol through pure power of will. "It was a gift given to me by him in the future."

Vivi's cheeks reddened. "Oh," she said softly.

"Shitty gift too." Mr. Bushido added. "Hardly made up for him skewering me on a sword."

Vivi, who had finally taken a sip of her forgotten cocoa, did a spit take. "What?" She yelled.

The swordsman wiped away the chocolatey liquid, a frown on his face. "You really like that word," he observed.

"Don't be so flippant about this," she said, glaring daggers at her friend, "it's almost like you're enjoying this!"

…

…

….

Mr. Bushido's lips twitched.

She once again jumped to her feet, her teeth bared, "You are! You are, aren't you?"

Mr. Bushido stood up, stretching his shoulders, and smiled. The simple action seemed to take years off his face. He unsheathed Wado Ichimonji and laid the glittering sword onto the table. Despite her anger, Vivi was transfixed. "You keep it for the night," Mr. Bushido said as he walked away, "view whatever memories you want."

"Wait," she called out, her voice halting him at the door, "What if you need it?" Her voice trailed off at the end as she mentally chastised herself, he was a New World level pirate. What possible opponent out here could force him into using his infamous sword style?

Mr. Bushido only smiled, and then the doorway was empty. Vivi was left as she started: all alone and with a cold cup of cocoa.

Well, not quite. The desert princess eyed the sword with open trepidation. Wado Ichimonji's cold steel seemed to mock her, calling forth every single doubt and fear in her mind with its deadly sharpness.

With a deep breath and trembling hands, she picked it up.

And was whisked away into Roronoa Zoro's memories.

* * *

Nami watched the steady rise and fall of her captain's bandaged chest and, not for the first time that night (or was it morning by now?), cursing Roronoa Zoro. Cursing everything he stood for: his hair, his constant naps, his sense of direction or lack thereof, his sword style, his voice, his mannerisms, his dreams.

She cursed them all.

She kept replaying that moment over and over again. Wondering if she could have done anything different. If she could said something differently, moved faster or arrived just that bit earlier. But she hadn't. And she knew that moment would be burned in her mind forever. Whatever the outcome, whether Luffy lived or died. It would be there.

She had been elated, she remembered, as she walked down the street with a sack of money hefted over her shoulder. She had pretended to fall asleep, not trusting the overly-friendly villagers one bit, and had beaten them up when the had came for her valuables. She had noticed Zoro and Luffy were missing and had set out to find them.

It hadn't been difficult, just had to follow the trail of destruction.

Nami had turned the corner and found them fighting. No, fighting did not cover it. Fighting conjured images of playful spars and bonks on the head when she normally associated the word with the duo. No, it hadn't been fighting. There had been no easy hearted banter or laughter.

There had been rage and fire in Luffy's eyes and a sort of deadly calm on Zoro's face. Luffy's skin had been a glowy pink and steam had rushed out from every pore of skin. Zoro's swords had seemed to hum with power and, though she was sure if was a trick of the light, had seemed to be encased in obsidian. They had dashed towards each other at inhuman speeds, inhuman even for them.

They had met in the middle.

And there had been blood. Oh, so much blood. Zoro had sheathed his stained blades as what had seemed like a geyser of sanguine fluid erupted out of the falling Luffy.

Logically, she knew she was exaggerating the amount of blood loss. Nami knew that. But every time she looked back on the memory, more blood seemed to accompany the visage. From a brief spurt of sanguine in the air to an erupting fountain that stained everything in sight, blinding her eyes and making her taste the hot stickiness of it in the back of her throat.

Shaking her head to rid her of her morbid thoughts, Nami removed the wet cloth from Luffy's forehead. Muttering soothing nonsense words, she applied a fresh wet cloth. Clucking her tongue, her critical eye raked over the injured teen.

It infuriated her to end. Her uselessness, that was. She wasn't a doctor or a surgeon, none of the crew were. She had no real clue if anything she was doing was of any use. Whether it was a hindrance or a help to his recovery.

If Monkey D. Luffy died on her watch...well, she would never be able to forgive herself. Fact. Not for the first time, but for the most serious one, she lamented the fact that they did not pick up a doctor back in East Blue.

Nami rubbed her bare arms, trying to will away the seemingly permanent goosebumps there. It had been a shock to her system, all of their systems, to see Luffy like this. To see larger-than-life Luffy unresponsive in his cot, to hear their invincible captain whimper as they applied bandages.

Nami wasn't sure when she had started to unconsciously consider Luffy as more than mortal. When she started seeing him as a force of the universe, undying and unmovable. Had it been when he had stood over the remains of her childhood prison, Arlong Park, and screamed out at her. No, it had been before even that.

With a jolt, she placed the exact moment: Syrup Village. On the beach with Usopp and having Captain Kuro stare down at her like she was his next meal and she could do nothing to prevent it. Seeing the familiar red of Luffy's vest fill her vision as her captain had stood in front of her and protected her. Yes, that had been the moment Luffy had become more than just Luffy to her.

But he wasn't. He was just Luffy. And he had been wounded horribly by his First Mate, Roronoa Zoro. She had screamed why at the swordsman and he had just mumbled "Captain's orders" and thrown Luffy and the blue-haired Baroque Works agent(and that was a whole other can of worms entirely) over his shoulder.

It was the not knowing that was truly driving her crazy. The feeling of ignorance that was making her want to tear her hair out with an oath. She wanted more than anything for Luffy to wake up and explain the situation. Explain it because Zoro refused to!

She wanted him to wave it off with a laugh so the crew could come together again. Wanted him to wave away the danger and tenseness abroad the Going Merry. Wanted him to laugh at the mere idea that Zoro could've tried to kill him in cold blood.

Nami wanted desperately to be able to trust Roronoa Zoro again.

And if Luffy couldn't provide that, then well...they would deal with it. Between Luffy, Sanji and the rest of them she was sure they could take Zoro.

And if Luffy died before being able to clear up the situation.

Well then.

She would curse Roronoa Zoro and everything he stood for.


	16. Chapter 16

Luffy felt conflicted

On one hand, he was grateful that everyone had been worried about him. The thought of it made him feel fuzzy and warm.

On the other hand, they were annoying the hell out of him. They walked on eggshells around him, smiling gently and talking softly. Usopp didn't drag him into ridiculous games and risky dares and Nami didn't get angry at him either.

Hell, even Sanji's kicks felt half-assed!

The only one still the same was Zoro. After the hell that had been his first breakfast getting up after the fight (having to break the ice all over again with them), he'd been expecting grief-filled glances and blabbered apologies.

Nope.

He had gone to wake up the sleeping swordsman, Zoro had been on watch over the night, and found the man ready for him near Merry's head. Eyes closed, Zoro had asked. "Did that answer your question.

Luffy had been momentarily stumped by the trite question before he remembered, the words ringing in his ears.

 _Just how strong are you?_

Luffy had felt a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he said, the continued easiness between them surprising him, "thanks...Zoro."

And just like that, things were okay between them.

"Your Observation Haki will keep getting stronger on its own, no training needed," Zoro had said, visible eye gazing up at him from his perch on the ground, "so it's time to move on."

"Oh?" Luffy had said, dropping down opposite the green-haired man, "to what?"

"Armament Haki", Zoro had said, lifting his now ebony hand.

Luffy had clasped the dark hand, marveling at the coldness. "What does it do?"

"It is armour, but that is also not quite true." Zoro had mused, "armour cannot be used to strike back at with."

"It is a physical representation of one's will." Zoro's voice had been quiet but at the same time had seemed to carry great distances. "A man on death's door could shatter a mountain to rubble with Armament."

Here, Zoro had chuckled. "That is not to say that just wanting something is enough. If that were the case, then every single tantrum-throwing toddler would have it." The swordsman black armour had spread up to his elbow at that point. "You must yearn for it with every fiber of your being. You must need it."

Luffy cocked his head to the side, thinking of Ace and Gramps. "But I've needed it before, when I lost fights."

"A high stake fight everything, and I mean everything, on the line?" Zoro had questioned.

"No," Luffy said, scratching his head, "I guess not."

"My teacher always said to give it a physical representation, he was fond of a brass padlock," Zoro had explained, "with every battle it will rust and crack, real fights with emotional consequences obviously doing more to it, until it shatters and you unlock Haki."

And, as they drifted towards some island near Alabasta, Luffy and Zoro had begun to spend most of their days training.

It was hell.

A hundred times worse than any of Gramp's training.

In fact, Luffy laughed in the face of Gramp's training now.

In its face.

Spending a week alone in the forest as a toddler?

Pfft.

Try spending all day sparring Roronoa Zoro.

Now, that was hell!

Everyday, his aching and sweaty muscles screamed and writhed in protest as he tossed himself back at the swordsman.

Aching muscles. That was a new and unwelcome experience. Being rubber since the ripe old age of seven, he had never properly experienced muscle fatigue. Ace had always often joked that nothing in the entire damn world would tire him out if Gramps couldn't.

Ace, in that respect, had been utterly wrong. Perhaps. If you ignored his musings on how he didn't deserve to live (utterly stupid that they were), the most wrong Ace had ever been in his entire short life.

Because Roronoa Zoro was on another level.

Every day since that fateful conversation, Luffy had thrown himself at the older man ever day. He lost every bout by a mile. Didn't matter how much he switched up his strategy, alternating between fakes and jabs. Or how much he used his speedy up and bone growing powers, now dubbed Gear Second and Gear Third for simplicity's sake.

Roronoa Zoro only stood there and smirked his damned smirk and blocked it all, not a single hair out of its perfect place.

It was, he admitted, disheartening to say the least.

Sometimes, between bouts, he considered just stopping the sorry excuse of training. After all, he's already plenty strong. He could go back to his carefree days of just adventuring, knowing that his natural strength would be enough for him to win. Except...that wasn't quite true, was it? All he had to do was remember how utterly hopeless he had felt at Whiskey Peak and his resolve was hardened.

No, the training was a necessary evil. He could never feel that desperate and weak again. He wouldn't. To be truly free, one had to be strong enough to stand tall as the world threw everything it had at you and to be able to throw twice as much back.

And he had sworn he'd be free. Sworn it overlooking a vast ocean to both his brothers, the grieving one beside him and the one cruelly taken from them. Sworn that he would never stand idly by and let the world sweep away his dreams in its relentless cruel current.

Emboldened by the thought of Sabo and Ace, the rubber teen kicked off from the ground in the horse stance. His limb pumped, sending the blood ricocheting through his groaning veins, He snarled as he outstretched his arm, blurring through the air faster than the eye could see it. Zoro only smirked, he'd been doing that a lot lately, and held out a Haki-infused palm.

Luffy hissed as the attack was deflected, the skin ripping from his knuckle. He licked at the injured hand, shooting the perpetrator a scathing look. Zoro only laughed. "Still no luck with the lock?"

In a moment of great mental fortitude, Luffy shot him the finger. "You know damn well there isn't."

And wasn't that a kick in the teeth?

He had easily imagined the lock in question: a proud gleaming golden behemoth in an otherwise empty and swirling vortex. He could tell that power lay behind the lock but he couldn't seem to damage it at all. It seemed to taunt him with its smoothness, basking in its lack of blemishes and marks.

Luffy thinked that maybe, just maybe, that the metal seems less vibrant somehow as he imagined it. Less polish? Near invisible scratches? But then he would focus and stare in dismay at how perfect it is.

Zoro ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry too much about it," he said, "real battle and, putting it bluntly, mental trauma are what really will break it."

In a rare display of frustration, Luffy stamped the ground. "Then what's the point of this?"

"To protect them."

And on that sombre note, their training resumed.

Because how was Luffy supposed to argue against that?

It was midday a few days later when Sanji came to them. The blond cook strided across the deck towards them, a scowl on his face and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. Zoro noticed their spectator first and made to end the match. The swordsman grabbed Luffy's leg and casually hurled the squawking teen over his shoulder.

Luffy dusted down his shorts as his body rolled to a stop and he eyed the confrontation warily. "Sanji," Zoro said as the cook stepped in front of him, "can I help you?"

Sanji glared at Zoro, but the wariness and anger was mostly gone from his eyes. "I think I got this Observation Haki stuff down pat."

Zoro cocked an eyebrow. "Impressive, if that's true. Close your eyes, would you? I'll test you."

Sanji obliged and Zoro walked a few steps away. The green-haired man began rooting through a crate, coming away with a bunch of Usopp's caltrops. Luffy winced as the sun's light bounced off the wicked sharp edges. "Ready?"

"Born ready." Was Sanji's cool reply.

It went better than Luffy expected.

Sanji easily dodged the first ten or so, swaying to and fro. "Nice," Zoro commented absentmindedly as he picked up the tempo.

Zoro began throwing two at once, the metal whizzing by faster. Within seconds, the air was swollen with gleaming metal.

Sanji cursed and jumped, three caltrops imbedding themselves in the wood where his legs had been a second previous. He twisted his body in mid-air, looking like he wa participating in some grotesque mockery of Twister, and Usopp's weapons rushed through the openings of his long limbs.

With a satisfied smirk, Sanji landed lightly on his feet. He lit up a cigarette, sensing correctly that Zoro was out of caltrops. Behind him, one of the caltrops smashed against another and was sent flying in a new direction. The bladed edge of the caltrop cleanly slit his cheek, droplets of blood staining the wood behind his feet.

Luffy let out a bubble of laughter at Sanji's bug-eyed stare. It was too funny!

"You did good," Zoro said, his lip twitching, "shouldn't have let your guard down at the end though."

"Oh, shut it!" Sanji snapped, striding forward with a scowl."So?"

"So?" Zoro mimicked.

"Can I start the next step of my training or not?" Sanji's voice was tight, his anger barely hidden.

Zoro shrugged, the simple action seeming to ignite Sani's fury even more. "I suppose so," Zoro said, "oi, Luffy. Get over here."

Luffy scampered over, weaving through the caltrop-littered floor. "Yeah?"

Zoro jabbed a finger a the ship's resident cook. "Spar him and then I'll teach him the lock."

Luffy blinked. Once, then twice. Had he heard that right? He was to fight someone other than Zoro? The implications took a second to reach his brain.

Spar with Sanji.

Thus, not spar with Zoro.

Thus, escape hell.

Luffy's arm shot up faster than he knew it could. "Yes sir!"

WIth a grin, he slipped into Gear Second and shot towards the wary cook.

He trounced him with glee.

* * *

Little Garden was exactly as he remembered.

A loud and exotic jungle, with trees that nearly touched the sky. A volcano that seemed to outstretch even the behemoth trees, it's dangerous peak casting a shadow down upon anything and everything. A river, wider than it had any right to be, cutting through the middle of the jungle lost in the annals of time.

The incessant chirpings of the island's many insects were only offshot by the distant groans of the dinosaurs and the ominous rumblings of the oh so very active volcano.

A crack of twigs, a rustle of bushes, and a blur of yellow gleaming eyes.

Yubashiri rose and fell in a spray of blood

The triceratops fell down, its eyes glazing over, and Bushido pressed on. He mentally berated himself for not noticing something that big and burly sneaking up on him, it was hardly a prowling jungle cat.

But then again, he couldn't really blame himself. He hadn't noticed in his first run through of the island, and by god that felt like eons ago, but Observation Haki was useless here. Well, that was being melodramatic but it held a kernel of truth. It would take a few days for his mind to get used to the island.

Every single voice was new. Old forgotten and extinct species, their presence new and foreign, fought and clamoured for attention in the forefront of his mind. Hundreds of them in an crescendo of information, blocking everything else out. Add in two giants whose presence dwarfed everything besides him, Luffy and Sanji and you got one hell of a headache. He could barely keep track of the crew and Vivi, presences he was intimately familiar and comfortable with.

Baroque Work agents? Forget it, not a chance in hell.

Then again, they weren't exactly a threat. There was the guy who had explosive boogers and the girl who could make herself heavy, both could be taken out in a single punch by before him and Luffy. Then there was the wax guy who fancied himself a genius and who had ended up with Buggy and his partner...his partner. And that was the real source of Bushido's worries, Mr. 3's partner. He couldn't remember her, and he had a funny feeling it was a girl, she was a non-entity.

And non-entities were a cause for worry.

But, he reflected as he entered a clearing, he had more important things to worry about coming up. Something he couldn't put off for much longer. Something he had to plan for.

Mock Town. Teach.

He couldn't rely on his faded memory of Jaya. Memory was a fickle beast that could easily bite the hand that fed it if you relied on it too heavily. The sword sang as Bushido pulled Wado Ichimonji free from its white hilt, the sunlight glittering off the polished fatal metal.

So, he'd just have to refresh it.

He let his mind wander and instantly the memories of his previous life consumed him.

 _Mock Town. Teach._

He focused on the memories, commanding the river of time to his will.

 _Mock Town. Teach_

He repeated the mantra inside his head, soft chants escaping his lips. Trickles of the disorienting memories began to flow around him, begrudgingly falling under his will.

 _Mock Town. Teach_

 _Save Ace._

 _Save Luffy._

The flood of rushing memories marched to the drumbeat of his will and he was whisked away from Little Garden.

He now stood in the disorganised rabble-filled pirate town on Jaya.

He began to observe his past self walking down the street with Luffy and Nami.

He never noticed the small girl with the paintbrush and palette approaching his real body.


	17. Chapter 17

The group was approaching the bar when he heard his laugh.

 _Zehahahaha_

His gut clenched and a shudder ran through his body. Cold sweat erupted across his body and his limbs felt like lead as he moved, he was reminded of a struggling fly trapped in honey.

 _Zehahahaha_

Bushido felt like he was falling down and down an abyss, darkness (Teach's darkness) defiling him. Struggling and drowning, his senses blind. The smug and treacherous laughter splitting open his head like a hammer, his ears ringing. He couldn't think!

 _Zehahahaha_

This was all wrong, he thought wildly, a mere memory shouldn't affect him like this! Focusing his good eye, even as the imaginary darkness licked and pried further at his body, he analysed the situation.

This was all mental.

So then, what mentally was it representing?

"Uragiri no Kuro!"

The commanding voice echoed through the darkness, shattering through the darkness's hold on him. Bushido gasped as the view of Mock Town shifted and _warped_.

Like two sets of film being played on top of each other, the world blurred. He could still see and hear Mock Town but, at the same time, he was more than faintly aware of Little Garden. The edges of his vision seemed to bleed back into the buzz of the immense jungle. And when he breathed in quick gasps, he wasn't greeted by the hazy stench of a dirty rundown lawless town. No, he was greeted by a miasma of humidity and dirt.

On an even worrying note, his perspective of Little Garden was constantly in motion

 _Zehahahaha_

He made to abandon the memory and froze, his skin taking on a sickly hue. His body didn't respond to his call, not even a twitch. His mental body's reactions became erratic and sporadic, limbs pulling in different directions at once, as he tried to command the body that refused to respond to his will any longer.

There was something morbidly ironic, he would later reflect, in the fact that the body he had stolen from its rightful owner was no longer dancing to Bushido's tune.

But as it happened, all he could do was panic.

The jungle was a blur and, with a furrowed brow, he realised his body was starting to sprint.

That couldn't bode well.

As the darkness threatened to lick and rip at his feet, the horrifying truth came to him and Bushido groaned.

Wax guy's partner: the girl with the mind controlling paints.

She had taken control of his body.

And he was trapped in the memories, unable to let go of the sword.

 _Zehahahaha_

He uttered an oath and tried with renewed vigor to take control of his physical body. His mental body's muscles screamed in protest, sweat coated his quivering skin and his teeth ground together in frustration. He dug his fingers into his palms, drawing blood. The sanguine droplets dripped to the dusty ground and were instantly swallowed by the ravenous and insatiable darkness.

It was no use. His real body's hand remained clenched no matter how much he struggled and cursed. He could dimly see it through the haze of the sun beating against the ground in Mock Town, his tanned right hand wrapped tightly around Kuina's blade as if it was a lifeline at sea.

The darkness coiled almost invitingly at his knees, it seemed to whisper seductively at him: full of false promises and half truths. Why not just fall down? Why not just give it all up? It was a doomed mission anyway. Pirate King without any loss?

Impossible.

Besides, they didn't trust him. Well, Luffy and Vivi did. Glimmers of distrust still hung in the eyes of the others, driving him mad with their crew wa disjointed and fragmented. It couldn't be saved. The Straw Hat Pirates were dead men walking. They were destined to die.

Luffy was destined to die.

He was on his hands and knees now, the group long since entered the bar (he could hear Bellamy whaling on them). The bubbling darkness had coated his limbs and snaked up to his ear, nibbling and gnawing at his brain.

 _Zehahahaha_

If they were destined to die...then why not at his hands?

 _Zehahahaha_

The darkness was smothering him now as he fell down on his back, pillaging his throat as it poured in. Smothering him with its absoluteness. He dimly wondered if he could die in the memories? Would his younger self automatically get the body? Would the body slip into a coma? Younger Zoro trapped forever in the mental plane?

Just before the darkness stole his vision, he saw Teach. The fat man plonked down in the middle of the street, chortling as he choked down cherry pies and swigged down rum. Then the sight of Mock Town was stolen from him.

 _Zehahahaha_

Darkness was absolute. Darkness was unchallenged. Darkness was everything. Darkness was him and he was darkness. His senses were gone, robbed by the all prevailing darkness. Even the view of Little Garden was growing murkier and murkier, tainted by the darkness.

Bushido could see some some of grotesque, gigantic wax cake structure though his dimming vision. Surreally, he recognised Sanji in his stead, the caricature of the cook was half frozen with wax and had one leg raised high in the air. Wado Ichimonji's bright and glittering white blade shone like an open flame in the darkness and, with a soft moan, Bushido tried to move his paralyzed body towards it.

Then the blade was singing through the air and a spray of blood filled the air, the red seeming to glow in the black. Bushido heard Sanji cry out (or was he just imagining it in the darkness?) and watched as Sanji fell book, the force toppling him from the sculpted cake.

 _Zehahahaha_

The Straw Hat Pirates were going to die.

At his hands.

 _Zehahahaha_

The Straw Hat Pirates were going to die at his hands.

The darkness soothed him.

Luffy was going to die at his hands.

Snuggly wrapping around him like a dark fur blanket.

Luffy was...going to die at his hands?

The darkness stiffened as Bushido tensed.

Like hell!

Bushido would not let his own doubt and insecurities hurt or kill anyone close to him. He owed that much to Kuina at the very least.

Not not, not ever!

The darkness screamed and writhed, tendrils burning in the sunlight. A gasp broke Bushido's lips as the tar-like substance loosened from his face. His good eye blinked, the fleeing darkness feeling akin to flakes of sleep in the morning. Nami and Vivi's screams rang in his ears as the darkness, seemingly so pitiful now, slinked away completely.

"People's dreams never end!"

Teach's sudden proclamation drowned out the sounds of Little Garden completely and utterly and, in the following silence, Bushido could nearly pretend he was actually in the dingy and derelict port town.

"Yeah," Bushido said quietly, eying the man who had been responsible for so much heartache, "I'll give you that much. They never end."

His dream was to protect Luffy.

And he'd be damned if he didn't. Hell or high water, Luffy would survive. He swore that on Kuina's grave.

"ZORO!"

The anguish-filled scream nearly brought him to his knees, his skin taking on the visage of a corpse. He turned and, waiting impatiently for the blurry vision to settle, observed what was happening in Little Garden. His stomach instantly heaved in protest, bile rising up the back of his throat.

His body now stood on the wax cake (the white wax now tarnished by sanguine red), Wado Ichimonji stained with blood. Vivi's bruised body lay thrown in a crumpled heap on the ground a few metres away and Sanji was still clutching at his gushing chest. And Nami-Nami was…

Writhing and screaming under his sword.

Bushido had heard screams before. All manners of screams, in fact. From tearful mothers clutching far too still babies to the roar of men at war who had lost everything and had everything to gain. As a pirate, he had heard a plethora of screams. He had long ago become desensitised to them.

He had believed that screams no longer fazed him.

He had been wrong. Oh, so wrong.

The scream made his knees buckle, the sound a sweeping wave of white hot agony piercing into his brain.

It was the sound of sheer agony. The mind-shattering quality the worst of them always held. Like the owners sanity and life were balanced on a knife's edge, the yawning abyss of insanity stretched out before them in earnest welcome. A crooked half-grin on its face.

But, beyond that, he realized what made it so much worse than all the others. It was a scream of broken trust. Scared and pain filled brown eyes stared up at him from an ashen face, those eyes screamed why at him. An honest-to-god sob escaped from his mouth as the scream vibrated in his very soul.

The scream became garbled and muffled, a pitiful whine like an old dog that needed to be put down. A moan left his mouth and he watched with horror as his body's weathered boot ground down on Nami's throat. A second hand joined the one stubbornly clutching at Wado Ichimonji and the katana was raised high into the air, directly above Nami's writhing body.

The blade swung down.

"NO!"

Bushido didn't realise he was not the only one who had screamed until his vision blurred and broke. The blurry world was a flashing myriad of colours with Mock Town as his only anchor. His physical body landed in the dirt with a dull thud. Motion sick, Bushido warily scanned the wax cake. Was Nami okay?

"ZORO!"

Steam hung in the air like some sort of physical representation of the tension and Bushido felt tears trickle down from his good eye as he looked up at the wax cake.

Glowing pink, and with eyes full of hate, Monkey D. Luffy stood perched above him. The rubber teen had a clenched and shaking fist outstretched, flecked by droplets of blood. Bushido's blood.

"WHY?"

The voice was so savage and full of hate, so unlike Luffy, that Bushido recoiled in the memories. That was the voice reserved for men like Teach and Akainu. The lowest of the low.

Being lumped in with them...made him feel physically sick.

Luffy disappeared in a blur, not content to wait for an answer. Bushido saw his arm come up, coated black, and catch Luffy's fist in a vice grip. Luffy swung his leg in a sideways sweep, a snarl on his face. Bushido's physical body leaned back and he effortlessly threw Luffy over his shoulder.

Bushido had seen enough.

He had to stop this right now.

He saw down cross-legged on the dusty ground of Mock Town and closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the sounds of fighting. Of steel on skin.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the familiar comforting abyss of his mental plane. Roronoa Zoro hadn't yet noticed him, busy with one-armed pushups. "Oi," Bushido called out, "catch!"

And Wado Ichimonji flew through the air.

Acting on instinct, Zoro's hand snaked up and wrapped around the hilt. Bushido watched his eyes widen and saw him mouth "why?"

"Protect them," Bushido said, "I beg of you."

And then he was alone, Zoro whisked away to take back control of his body.

Bushido massaged his temple.

All he could do was wait.

* * *

Why, why, why?

The obsidian blade came at him in an angle and nearly skewered him, Luffy rolled to the side and instead came away only with a nasty gash on his side.

Why, why, why, why?

The rusty and cracked lock groaned, a large gash running down the center.

Why, why, why, why, why?

Why was Zoro doing this?

Why wouldn't the _fucking_ lock break?

Zoro's Haki infused knee came up into his ribs and a sharp crack tore through the air. Luffy stumbled back, blood erupting from the corner of his mouth, as tongs of white hot agony pried at his aching chest.

His limbs felt like lead and his lips were turning blue, his heart a the point of bursting. He was out of steam. Literally and figurative.

Zoro mercilessly cut open one of his hamstrings and Luffy cursed weakly as he fell to the ground. He moved to get up but his failing body only twitched, a last dredge of energy spent. He couldn't move. Zoro turned and began to walk towards the unconscious Sanji, sword trailing through the dirt as he walked.

They'd only been fighting for about a minute! Was he still that much outclassed?

And why wouldn't the stupid infernal lock just open?

The lock creaked in response, mocking him with its existence. Luffy's brow furrowed as he put all of his mental strength into breaking it. A fleck of rust was the only result.

Zoro reached Sanji and paused, a twitch running through him as he raised his sword. His back muscles strained, a sharp contrast to the strange black tattoo (tattoo he thought wildly, that wasn't right. Zoro didn't have a tattoo, did he?), as if he was fighting some mental demons.

Someone deeper and more primal welled up inside of Luffy as he watched one of his friends about to be murdered by another.

Something much more ancient and powerful than the power held back by the lock.

For a moment, and a moment only, time seemed to freeze. Luffy's tired eyes took in everything at once.

The unconscious giants.

The gloating Baroque Works duo, a child and a man with his hair styled in the shape of a three.

Usopp, knocked out by Zoro within seconds of the start of Luffy's fight with Zoro.

A bruised Vivi, whimpering as she lay curled up in the fetal position.

Nami, her precious blood dripping down the wax.

And Zoro (why Zoro? Why?) with his sword held proudly high over the defenseless Sanji. The bug nipping at Zoro's neck.

Time resumed. The sword whistled as it moved down through the air.

"STOP!"

The power surged forward at once from Luffy's every pore, sweeping through the air.

Everything fell silent. The chirping insects fell from their perches on trees and bushes, Baroque Works agents, foaming at the mouths, fell to their knees. Vivi's moans subsided. And Zoro, undefeatable Zoro, toppled like a tree felled by lightning.

Everything was silent.

Silent as the grave.


	18. Chapter 18

Usopp was still shaking.

His quivering hands. His lanky legs. His heart rattling away behind his ribcage, sending panicky blood coursing through the sniper's body. A swollen tongue licked at cracked lips, mouth painfully dry. His teeth clacked and clattered.

Shaking.

Everything shaking.

"You're safe," he thought out loud, his voice a raspy croak, "he can't hurt you."

One of Zoro's pale fingers twitched and Usopp shot back with a yelp, quivering fingers wriggling in a ward against evil. Usopp's mouth was in his throat as he stared down at the static figure, hardly daring to breath. A second passed, then two. Zoro didn't move again.

Usopp exhaled.

His knees buckled out from underneath him and Usopp fell down onto the wooden deck, his ass protesting at the harsh landing. Usopp paid his body no mind, his eyes never leaving Zoro's body. Goosebumps ran up and down his pale skin, dark hair standing to attentions. And he knew it had nothing to do with the cold air of the Grand Line. A stark contrast to the humidity of Little Garden.

Already, Little Garden felt like a fading dream. But all it took was a quick glance around their cramped ship to remind himself that it had been all too real. A waking nightmare.

Alone on deck, Usopp didn't bother trying to get up. He had little faith in his shaky limbs. Little faith in himself. Little faith in anything anymore. His fingers tightened around his overalls, scrunching up the worn material. His eyes wandered over to the back of the ship: the storage room aka the impromptu medical room.

A shudder ran through Usopp's body as he imagined Nami squirreled away in that damp and dark corner, her only company the cannons and the groceries. Not for the first time that evening, Usopp cursed their lack of a doctor. With people like Luffy, Sanji and...Zoro (blood running down his blade as Nami screamed, Zoro.) onboard, it was easy to forget how utterly mortal they were. Usopp was ashamed to admit that the thought of a doctor hadn't crossed his usual paranoid mind even once on their adventure through East Blue.

And from what he had seen of Luffy from afar, fists clenched as he stood vigil over Nami, his captain hadn't thought of it either. Not that Usopp had asked the unnaturally silent rubber boy about it...no, he didn't have the courage to do it.

There was an oppressive feel to the air around Luffy, a certain dreadful heaviness. It was like there was power ready to be unleashed barely an inch under Luffy's skin, uncontrollable and absolute. A starving animal coiled on its limbs, ready to pounce.

And from what he had gleaned from Sanji's and Vivi's mutterings, Usopp wasn't exactly wrong. Luffy had unleashed some sort of power in his battle against Zoro, some sort of power that had knocked out anything still standing. Usopp sorta wished he hadn't been knocked out by the flat edge of one Zoro's swords literally three seconds into the battle but, on the other hand, the power sounded terrifying.

And Usopp had enough of terrifying for a lifetime.

Looking across at Zoro again, the man's body unceremoniously draped across Merry's deck (no one quite willing to put him in the same room as Nami), another memory unbidden rose to the forefront of Usopp's mind.

 _Did Zoro say or do anything strange at Cocoyashi?_

Nami had known. She had known something was wrong and Usopp had basically brushed her off, deeming it unimportant. Sure he has said that Zoro had seemed off but he didn't offer any solutions, didn't offer to help her.

And now Nami was fighting for her very life, every breath a struggle.

Usopp's hand found his slingshot and, before he knew what he was doing, his hand (all shaking gone, replaced by all-consuming fury.) was raised at Zoro's stoic face. Slingshot ready to fire. "How fucking dare you?" And Usopp was surprised at the honest-to-god hatred in voice, the pure unadulterated anger. "How dare you just lay there," Usopp hissed, "when Nami's dying because of what you just did there."

His finger loosened and the simple smoke pellet exploded harmlessly against Zoro's face, ruffling through his green hair. Staring at the unmarked face, Usopp saw red. The fury was everything and anything, red anger rushing through his veins. Usopp was halfway up the stairs to get a knife when sanity reclaimed its hold on the sniper, leaving him sweaty and empty.

Shaking, from exhaustion not fear, Usopp looked down at the prone figure of the man he'd trusted. His mentor, a role model, someone to look up to. A friend. Someone he could trust with his life. Someone he could trust with the others lives.

"You aren't worth the effort to kill you," Usopp spat out, retreating to the men's bedroom. Hot salty tears descending down his face as he walked.

* * *

The last dregs of the cigarette fell from his mouth, chewed into little more than a tobacco ball. His heel came down with a snap, cracking the floorboard underneath cleanly in two. Ignoring the damage, Sanji's shaking hand went for another cigarette. It was crushed between his fingers halfway to his lips, the dregs further staining his fingers.

The cook collapsed into a chair, head in his hands. Never in his life, short as it may have been, had he ever felt so _useless_.

Not even staring with horror at the stump where Zeff's leg had been on that rocky cropping all those years ago. Not even back even further in his childhood when he had still claimed the name Vinsmoke voluntarily.

The crude self done stitching across his chest throbbed and ached, a dull constant reminder of how he had failed. Pinned to the wax, it had taken Zoro one swing to take Sanji out of the battle.

One.

And through the haze of pain, blind hands desperately trying to stem the gushing blood, he had heard Nami's screams. Mind dulled by the shock of betrayal and blood loss, and with limbs that felt like lead sinking through honey, he had lain there. Lain there like a fish out of water, gasping and wheezing. Puffing away as Zoro descended upon Nami, sword gleaming with malice.

"Sanji?" Vivi's voice was timid and wary, the sound of a woman who had been hurt bad. The hesitant voice of someone who was afraid of raising their voice for fear of the world biting back. The weary sound of someone disillusioned to the world.

"Yeah? Sanji asked bluntly, his voice barely above a monotone. And that was a sign of how serious things were, he supposed. That he couldn't muster up the energy to treat Vivi with the tender love and care she deserved. Right now, Sanji was running on empty. Hollow inside. WIth sleep, he supposed, would come the all-consuming fury and hatred for Zoro (crewmate, tutor, friend. Trusted. _Betrayer_.) For now? Sanji was running on nothing, too far gone for anything but exhaustion.

"Are you okay?" The sand princess winced immediately after. "Sorry, stupid question."

Sanji felt laughter bubbling in his throat, he pressed it down with a grimace. He stared at his pink hands, scrubbed near raw in tap water, and slowly shook his head. "To be honest, Vivi," the cook said, "not really, no."

The dim kitchen light reflected off the girl's beautiful blue hair as she leaned in close, creamy arms wrapping around Sanji's torso. "Oh Sanji," Vivi muttered softly, her voice muffled by Sanji's well worn shirt, "it's going to be okay."

Sanji stiffened at the contact, eyes never leaving his hands as his stitching throbbed. He could still feel her blood coating his hands, enveloping them in crimson liquid. He put his shaky hands in his pocket, the image of the blood seared into his retinas. Out of sight, out of mind? If only it was that simple.

He wasn't a doctor, wasn't anything close. The most experience he had with knifes was cutting up dead animals for god's sake. But he was still the most experienced with knives and the one with the steadiest hands out of their sorry cast.

So the role of makeshift surgeon had fallen to him.

The role of butchering Nami under the guise of healing had fallen to him.

Something rolled down his face and landed on Vivi's upturned chin and, with shock as he stared into Vivi's bright blue eyes, he realised he was crying. "I ruined her." The words are a dull whisper, choked up with emotion. "I couldn't protect her and then I ruined her."

The princess rubbed circles on his back, the repeated motion familiar and soothing. "It's not your fault" she whispered amongst other nonsensical comforting words, "you did your best."

And for a moment, in the dead quiet of his kitchen, he nearly believed her. Then he remembered the ugly, red inflamed stitches running down her head and snaking down her body.

(Like Frankenstein's monster.)

And all Sanji could do was cry.

* * *

The pounding in his head was a steadfast companion and Luffy couldn't think.

The power urged to be free, demanding one second and persuasive the next. It was settled in chest, a heavy weight that threatened to buckle his knees with every step. It struggled to escape from every pore on his skin, scratching and biting in desperation.

And, well, Luffy tried to hold it all in. He really did. But it would not be contained, not by him. If only Luffy knew what is was! Was it haki? Or something else entirely? Zoro would probably know.

But Zoro was also in danger of being kicked off the crew. The only reason Luffy had dragged the green-haired man, traitor, back with them was because of the mysterious black paint they had found on his back. Mind Control? The Grand Line is a strange place after all, anything and everything is possible. And Luffy wants to believe in his first true friend outside of his brothers (Coby was funny but he didn't get Luffy the same way Zoro had.), his first crewmate.

But then he remembered Nami's terrified pain-filled screams and the feeling of dirt in his mouth as Zoro beat him down and his fists clenched, the power exploding out of him and sending anything not bolted down in the storeroom ruffling and rattling.

Nami moaned.

With a grunt of effort, Luffy reined in the explosive mystery power. The power seemed to hiss at the order, begrudgingly withdrawing at Luffy's will decreed. What's wrong being angry? It seemed to whisper to him seductively, what's wrong with being angry at what Zoro did?

Shaking his head, Luffy focused on Nami's sweating form. The way her hands clenched at her blankets as night terrors enveloped her fragile psyche whole. Anger and this new power would not help her recover. Soft words and smiles would go much further, watching the gloomy Ace's face light up whenever Luffy was around had taught him that, and Luffy would do what right by Nami.

An image of pinwheels and promise flashed through his head and, for a split second, Luffy is far away in a simpler time. And then Nami moans again, stitches cutting jagged lines across her skin. "I'm sorry, Pinwheel guy," Luffy speaks to the empty air, anything to break the oppressive heaviness, "I broke our promise. She lost her smile."

Not the only promise you broke, the restless power lapping away at him whispered, you swore on Sabo's grave that you would grow stronger and never let anyone precious to you be hurt. Did Sabo mean that little to you?

His knees buckled, not for the first time that evening (night now, he supposed.), but this time Luffy allows himself to fall into the chair placed in front of Nami's cot. But it is the only comfort he will allow himself. He will not sleep, not allow himself that luxury in the wake of his failure. He will stand vigil over Nami until she wakes.

It is the least he can do.

* * *

The kitchen door creaked to a close behind her, shrouding away the figure of a sleeping Sanji, and Vivi paused for a moment to observe the night sky and the emerging stars: it is vivid and picturesque. Then she has strided down towards the deck with purpose, a princess on a mission.

Mr. Bushido had been thrown spread-eagled onto the deck, abandoned and ignored. In some ways Nami's surgery (for that was what that stitching job was basically, closing wounds of that scale took more than a drab hand at sewing.) had been a good thing, and the mere thought of Nami's wounds being in any way a good thing left the taste of ash and curdled milk in her throat. Because it had left Sanji exhausted, too far gone to even consider being angry. She knew full well that they would have to stop the irate cook from stomping Mr. Bushido's head into a caricature of a pancake once he was recovered. But for now there was peace.

She kneeled down beside her friend and ran a hand through his cropped hair, the spiked tips begrudgingly allowing her passage. "Oh Mr. Bushido," she murmured, "I'm so sorry."

Sorry for everything.

Sorry for not doing more to stop things peacefully on Little Garden. Sorry that she hadn't sat down and explained things to Luffy about what had happened But her hands had been tied. Mr. Bushido had made it clear that she wasn't to reveal their knowledge of the future under any circumstances, no matter what. So, all Vivi could do was point to the black paint on his back and explain that she thinks it may have been a Baroque Works agent's doing.

Sorry for being useless.

But still, she reasoned to herself as her hands descended down through the edge of his hairline, things would be all right. Mr. Bushido would not stay unconscious from Luffy's Conqueror's (and what a shock that had been…) Haki for more than a couple of hours, honestly she was surprised that he had been knocked out for this long. Then Mr. Bushido would explain things and things, minus Nami's new scars (and that would cause tension, boatloads of it.), would be okay.

Then she has hissed as her pale fingers touched his forehead, hand snaking back so fast that it nearly caused her whiplash. With widened eyes and dread in her stomach, Vivi hesitantly touched Mr. Bushido's skin again. Same result.

He was burning up.

And he wasn't waking up any time soon.


	19. Chapter 19

Bushido watched his younger self pace back and forth, dark eyes blazing with agitation, with a frown. He could relate with his younger self's plight, the wait was agonizing. Not for the first time, Zoro whirled around and exploded at him. "Get going!"

Bushido sighed, massaging his brow. "We've been over this, I want to wait for tempers to sizzle down a bit before I return. SInce you failed and all." It was a low blow and he regretted the barbed words the moment they had left his lips.

Zoro winced, the wind ripped out from his sails. "I tried, okay? If I tried to break the weird mind control, I would've been sucked away into the sword...what the hell did you do to Kuina's sword, anyways?" Zoro's rant started quiet and steadily picked up volume, ending in a yell.

"Some byproduct of the time travel, I think. Whoever holds Wado Ichimonji gets my memories, flashes of my life all the way up to my death."

"That's dumb," Zoro said bluntly, "why?"

FIghting back another spike of irritation, Zoro hadn't stopped asking questions since the two of them had been stuck together, he spoke. "It's not like I researched time travel before it all went down. It was an accident. There one second, gone the next."

Zoro growled, frustration and a tinge of pain overlapping in his voice. "What was happening there anyway?"

"I told you this one already," Bushido reminded him, "it was a girl called Miss Goldenweek, she has mind controlling paints. I let my guard down, she snuck up on me. End of story."

Zoro's gaze was that of a dragon's, burning with fire, as he stared Bushido right down to the soul. "You're being awfully callous about this." To an outsider, the voice was offhandish and bored. But to someone who truly knew him, like his older self, it was full of barely held back shimmering fury. "Do you not care about what happened?"

Banshining away the haunting images of a blood-soaked Nami, Bushido fired back. "Of course I care. I just don't see how needless worrying is going to fix anything."

Zoro's hand instinctively went for the hip, fingers brushing off against empty air as they sought for the missing blade, and he growled. "She could die."

Nami's scream still ringing in his ears, constant and maddening in his head, Bushido glared. "Don't say that. Nami's strong, she'll pull through."

The unspoken "she always has" hung between them in the air.

With one final angry glare, the younger swordsman slipped with grace into a cross-legged sitting pose. "You can't guarantee that. You aren't some god, you clearly aren't omnipotent. Just admit it: things are spiralling out of your control...and that scares you shitless."

Teeth clenched, his voice was a thunder of warning. "Shut up."

"I bet you still don't have a doctor, am I right? Why would you? You already have the perfect person in mind for the position and it's not like you are hurry to get one either, you know exactly when someone gets hurt enough to warrant a doctor. Right? Wrong. It's about time you wake the hell up and realise that not everything is all sunshine and roses, that you being here doesn't automatically make everything okay. That, maybe, your presence is actually making things worse for everyone here." Zoro gestured at himself with a soft smirk on his lips. "It certainly is for me."

Anger didn't even begin to describe the feeling burning in his chest, his blood sung with vengeful lust as it blazed through his veins. Dimly, he heard himself reply. "I don't have to take that from you. I'm going." He swiveled on his heel, striding towards Wado Ichimonji.

"You're like a kid who burned his pissed bedsheets," Zoro called out at his retreating back, "running away from your problems and hoping that they will be magically fixed."

Bushido paused, fingers inch from the cold metal, and spat out. "You know nothing about me, nothing about what happened." Then his calloused fingers were wrapping around the hilt, the weight comforting. There was a tug in his gut and, with a grunt, he was ejected from the mental landscape. For one final moment, he took in the sitting figure of the younger male as the blackness blurred and bleed away.

And then there was pain.

He couldn't breath was his first floundering thought, shaky and sweating hands grasping at his chest. The hole in his throat had shrunken to the size of a marble, glands swollen and absolute, and the mere presence of traces of spit caused him to wince in pain. His muscles sent jolts of protest at every moment, sending paroxysms of pain coursing through his body at anything above a turtle's speed. He hissed, a caricature of his usual voice (no doubt warped by the sore throat.), as his fingers tugged at his sweaty body: heat.

His skin was like a blacksmith's forge, hot and burning to the touch. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he his skin started to crack and steam poured out of his veins. It was that warm. Hot didn't even begin to describe it. And now that he was aware of it, he couldn't not sense it.

The heat was ordinate and inescapable.

He could imagine his blood boiling and escaping through his pores, blood red tears running down his body in rivulets. With a fevered certainty that, if left alone with his thoughts and the heat, he would be driven insane. He commanded the exhausted body to move, to obey his will in this if nothing else. A pitiful whine escaped through cracked and chafing lips, the pitiful remains of what was supposed to be a loud snarl.

His right forefinger twitched.

"Get up," he managed to rasp, the action a grating hell on his throat, forcing his swollen tongue to break away from the roof of his mouth, "stand up so I can save them."

Finally, miraculously, the body replied. It rose sharply with a fluidly that something so sickly shouldn't possess and made his head spin, the world spinning in hues of vomit-inducing colours. For a moment he swayed to and fro on the deck with sweat pouring down his body, though whether from the sickness or the effort he couldn't tell, and he feared that a light breeze would knock him over and reduce his efforts to naught.

Then his eyes locked onto Luffy's and such trivial fears were far from the forefront of his mind.

Bushido managed a weak grin, taking an unsteady step forwards. "Hey Luffy-"

The power slammed into into him and send his knees flying out from under him, he fell without a sound. On his hands and knees, Bushido managed to let out a wheeze. "The Haki of the Conquering King...nice."

He was still trying to raise his defences when the second blast of royal power rushed over him, the very air tensing at the alien presence His limbs seized and locked up, jutting out at awkward angles. He fell, skin still burning up, and smashed his head against the wooden deck: hard.

He opened his eye to the black abyss and Zoro's leering face peering down at him. "So," Zoro said, voice light, "how did running away work out for you?

Bushido's arm shot out and buried itself in the younger man's gut, the momentum sending Zoro peddling away with a wheeze. "Oh shut up."

"Message received," Zoro said, grimacing as he clutched at his gut, "still, what went wrong?"

Bushido sighed as his arm flopped back. "I'm, we're, sick."

Zoro's eyebrows knitted together in a frown, the definition of confusion. "...So?"

Bushido struggled to put it into words, his brain whirring as it processed the information. His fingers brushed against his chest, searching for burning heat that wasn't there. Double and triple-checking that the ravenous sickness hadn't followed him back, that crying muscles wouldn't burst out in goosebump and sweat. "It's bad, real bad." The words felt inadequate on his tongue...but they were all he could manage.

A flash of worry in Zoro's eyes. "We're fine though, right?" The doubt he felt of any sickness keeping him down for long was apparent in Zoro's voice. "Plenty of fluids and bedrest and all that nonsense, doctor's orders and all that."

Bushido stood up, some absurd notion to check that all his limbs worked correctly after feeling the sickly tired body he had been contained in. "I wish," he said, flicking his wrist up and down, "high possible of death, if I had to say."

Zoro blanched. "No way in hell am I dying from some mundane cold." Zoro's teeth were set in a snarl, a gleaming contrast to the darkness. "I'm going to be the greatest swordsman in the entire world!"

Bushido managed to let out a laugh. "Sickness aren't known to discriminate based off how great your dreams are, they take anything and everything in their path."

"Don't wax poetry at me," Zoro snapped back sharply, "you seem to be taking this rather calmly for someone who claims we might be slowly dying."

"They'll get us to a doctor in time."

The unspoken "I hope" hung between them in the air.

* * *

 _She was in a nightmare, that was the only the sane explanation. The exotic jungle was bathed in shades of red, from a bubbling shade that reminded her (rather sickeningly.) of strawberry jam to the flecks of cherry red splattered on the leaves._

 _Except...it wasn't exactly shades of red. Was it?_

 _Blood._

 _Her blood._

 _Split by the cold steel of Zoro's sword. Sharp metal carving through her skin like melted butter, the blade grinding deep against her very bones. It was everywhere: pooling and choking in her mouth (the metallic taste permanently engrained on her gums.), dripping down from her hands and mixing and overlapping with her peach nail polish, falling from torn legs and being greedily sucked up by the dirt, and black blood pouring from her butchered chest._

 _Black blood tainted by betrayal._

 _Above her writhing form, the blood-soaked blade came whistling down through the air. White hot agony ran through her mangled body, muscles violently twitching and screaming in protest. Zoro's face was an impassive mask as he commanded the sword in a deep diagonal cut across her side, eyes devoid of anything as he completed the task._

 _The sword was awkwardly pulled out with a squelch, Zoro's boot against her chest helping the movement along. The blade was raised in a deliberate high arc and she knew this would be the end and a small part, a tratious tiny niggling part, welcomed it. Zoro's boot clamped down on her throat. And she realised that she had been screaming the entire time._

 _The blade swung._

 _It was a nightmare. It couldn't be real._

 _Could it?_

Consciousness returned to Nami quickly, her eyes snapping open. One second she was awash with blood, the next she was grasping at a blanket on a cot. She sat up or, at least, tried to. The blood rushed to her head as the room spun around her and, with a moan, she slipped back down into her original position.

An eep at the door alerted her to her visitor's presence.

Eyes pressed closed, Nami spoke. "Usopp."

"N-Nami." The voice was strained and trembling. "How are you feeling?"

Whatever witty barb had been on the edge of her tongue died as her tired eyes opened and glanced down at her hands, fingers clutching tightly at the thin blanket covering her body. Shakingly, unbelieving and uncomprehending, she brought the hands up to her face. "Usopp." Her voice was hysteric, a few decibels higher than she had ever heard it go before. "My hands...w-what happened to my hands?"

She heard what sounded like a choked sob. "Nami…"

"These aren't my hands, they can't be." Her voice was dazed and confused, a pleading and puzzled note to her voice. "Usopp, tell me this is some sort of sick joke."

The once perfect creamy skin was gone. Instead, a wasteland of stitches criss-crossed across the remains of beauty. Not even clean stitches (those she could have worked with in a kinky Frankenstein sort of way.), but inflamed bumpy ones created from ugly black thread. The stitches pulled at taut skin, her skin riddled with flashes of angry red and pale spots cut off from any blood flow. The shoddy stitching even curled up towards her fingers, numbing the joints slightly. It was a caricature of her hands.

Fakes.

"This can't be real," Nami breathed out, her world spinning again but because of totally different reason, "it just can't be."

And suddenly Usopp's' arms were wrapped around and, for once, he wasn't the only one shaking. "Oh Nami," the sniper muttered into her shoulder, "it'll be okay. Zoro will pay for what he did to you."

Nami's world tilted on its axle and shattered, leaving her floundering in shock. That had been a nightmare, right? There was no way that had been real...Zoro wouldn't hurt her! No way Jose! But a small part of her, the same traitorous niggling part of her that had welcomed death in her nightmare, thought back to the angry and confused young man she had met in Arlong Park who had looked lost in his own skin. Sure, Zoro would never hurt her…

But the Pirate Hunter might.

And now Usopp was crying, loud sobs echoing through the cramped room as he held his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, "I couldn't protect you at all, Zoro just blitzed right past me. Like I was nothing."

Another horrifying thought came to the forefront of Nami's mind, chilling her to her core. If the Pirate Hunter (not Zoro. Never Zoro.) had actually hurt her...then that mean that everything she had assumed was just a nightmare had actually happened? The pale splotches on her hands, if that was possible, seemed to pale even further. In her nightmare (memory?) the PIrate Hunter had merrily hacked away at more than just her hands.

"Usopp." And Nami was damn proud that her voice didn't waver in the slightest, her resolve hardened to steel. "Bring me a mirror." It was a demand, not a request.

Usopp seemed to moan as he staggered away, as if she had given him the order to march to the gallows, searching for the mirror. Seconds later, and with trembling hands (and oh how she hated herself for the stab of envy she felt when she looked at his unmarred hands.), he returned with the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, and how everything seemed so _vivid_ in that one moment, she picked up the mirror and stared. She thought she had steeled her resolve. That she had been ready to see the fruits of the Pirate Hunter's efforts.

Nami had been wrong. Oh, so very wrong. More wrong, perhaps, than she had ever been in her life.

The mirror fell to the floor, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. Tarnished and broken.

Like her.

* * *

The hat had never felt so heavy on Luffy's head.

He mechanically forced down the cold toast, served by Sanji with a pinched half smile almost an hour before, and downed the tall mug of coffee in one scalding gulp (couldn't sleep, the power yearning to be released the second his guard was lowered.). Baggy and tired eyes stared at the scrunched up piece of paper that was was clutched in his hand, fingers tracing the inked words. It had been delivered by the News Coo that morning and Luffy hadn't, couldn't, stop looking at it.

 **Roronoa Zoro**

" **Black Katana"**

 **60,000,000**

The caricature of his friend, betrayer, mocked him from the crinkled paper. Zoro didn't full out grin like that, he smiled a slight solemn smile. Zoro's face didn't light up laughter like that, the corners around his eyes and mouth crinkled in amusement. And two dark eyes didn't dance with emotion in their sockets, one eye stared pensively out over the ocean waves.

It was a different Zoro. A younger, carefree and happy, green-haired swordsman. A man whose hands weren't stained sanguine with blood.

And Luffy hated that piece of paper for that with a cold anger, too tired to put any real emotion into his ire.

The fact that the bounty was literally double Luffy's also caused the knot of anger and frustration in the base of his gut tighten even further, just another example of his failure. As if sensing his wariness, the overbearing power scratched away relentlessly just under his skin. Luffy winced and his fingers tightened, the bounty poster tearing.

Not for the first time that day, Luffy regretted getting carried away and using the power to blast Zoro.

Zoro had said something before he had lost consciousness: something about another form of Haki? He had known what was wrong with Luffy and the rubber boy had wasted the chance, losing control at the worst possible moment. Plus, he had lost the chance to hear about Zoro's side of the story about what had happened in what was beginning to be referred to as The Little Garden Incident.

And Zoro was sick, potentially really badly sick, the symptoms were obvious: sweaty and cold skin, skin that was burning to the touch yet clammy like that of a cooling corpse. Luffy had also wasted the chance to ask Zoro how sick he was. Still between that and the fact that Nami's crude stitches needed to be redone, and the mere image of Nami's inflamed stitching making him wince, Luffy had decided to play it safe and take a detour to get a doctor.

Between Sanji, Usopp and Vivi they had somehow managed to get by the day-to-day navigating tasks.

A prickle at the edge of his consciousness, a ping against his Observation Haki, made him pause. Luffy stood up, chair clattering to the floor, and focused. The presences, a shipful most likely, was quickly approaching. He cracked his knuckles and grinned, a feral sight. The power for once seemed to be flowing gently in his core like a peaceful lake's waves lapping against the shore, for once in agreement with Luffy's decision.

A loud and arrogant voice rang out. "Bask in the presence of the rightful ruler of the esteemed Drum Kingdom: Wapol!"

Luffy headed for the door.

They never knew what hit them.

But, then again, the weaklings never did.


	20. Chapter 20

Compared to the first time she awakened in the body, she still couldn't think of the scarred bag of flesh as _hers_ , the second time wasn't quite as traumatic. That is to say, she did not drop away into a dead faint.

The hammock underneath was clean and comfortable, the sheets felt like silk against her skin, and the air was clean and fresh, not full of dust. Her vision, squirreled away behind her eyelids, was hues of soothing orange as she basked in the warmth of the bedside lamp. Her consciousness slowly began to awaken, begrudgingly breaking free of sleep's chains.

With a groan and stretch, Nami slowly sat up and opened her eyes.

And for a moment, all was right.

Then, with the force of a thundering tsunami finally reaching land, the memories came crashing back .

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she drew her hands out from under the safehaven of the silky sheets and stared. A low moan built up up in the back of her throat and escaped through clenched teeth, the sound spreading through the empty room. She shook her head from side to side, sweaty red locks plastered to her forehead, and forced the hand back under the covers. Away from her eyes.

Away from her.

The same thought from before assaulted her mind, drowning out everything else to white noise, running endlessly on loop.

 _The Pirate Hunter had attacked more than just her hands_

Taking a deep breath, she withdrew the offending limbs from the blanket. Eyes glazing over her hands, she focused on her arms themselves. Bile rose in her throat and the world shuddered to a stop around, nothing else mattering, as she stared at her arms. Stared at the ugly black thread criss-crossing up her arms, pulled taut against raised skin.

Nami leaned over her bed, took a brief moment to feel a pang of regret as she stared at the lush carpet, and opened her mouth to empty her stomach. She expected a torrent of half-digested sludge to burst from her mouth and splatter against the ground, seeping into and defiling the clean carpet. Instead, all she did was retch. Her stomach heaved and sweat broke out across her clammy skin as the nauseating retching sound filled the otherwise quiet room.

Her trembling (disfigured) arm wiped away at her mouth, the taste of stale spit in her mouth overpowering her tastebuds. She wished she had puked. At least then, she had something to show for it. Dry heaving only left her with clammy skin and the shakes. She stared up at the ceiling and dimly wondered what time it was.

A minute passed. Or maybe it was an hour. Time passed oddly when you had the shakes and only your own scars for company. Eventually, the shakes passed and the knots in her stomach loosened from unbearable to merely discomforting. With shaky (scarred) hands, she rolled up her pants legs. The small remaining rational part of her brain pleaded with her to stop, she already knew what it would be like. Hell, she could already see an ugly line of stitching or two on her pale feet. Still, she pressed on.

Still, she recoiled.

Pyjamas scrunched all the way up to her thighs, she looked at the remains of her legs with mounting horror. The jagged lines cut deeper into her enflamed skin, throbbing all the way to the bone marrow. And, now that she was aware of it, every slight movement of skin caused twangs of pain to ripple through her legs. The mere presence of the ugly stitching grinding against the normal skin, prickles of discomfort arising from the edges, could now be felt. She could feel the stitching, how it shifted slightly as she stretched out her legs.

Felt how unnatural it was.

Dead weight against the top layer of skin.

Nami pulled down taut (like her skin) on the cloth and watched it cover up the marred flesh, watched the pale yet enflamed skin disappear behind a layer of yellow. But she could still feel the stitches, could imagine them writhing and breaking apart her flesh. Widening the gap between wounds and, finally, dropping down into her veins and rushing towards and clogging up her heart...cutting off the blood flow, the oxygen to her body.

Could imagine falling to the ground, struggling to breath as cold fingers pried at her throat. How the enflamed skin would seem so _vivid_ against her white, cooling skin.

With a little shriek, Nami lept to her feet. For a horrifying moment she thought that her legs wouldn't support the sudden shift in weight, that the stitched limbs would collapse and never rise again, but they, miraculously, held. Massaging her throat, Nami shook her head from side to side and let out a small sigh of relief.

As if it had called to her, Nami's eyes locked onto the small mirror on Vivi's bedside table. The object was small and unassuming, oval glass surrounding by fake birch wood, and yet had the potential to cause her so much pain. The same rational part that had objected to her looking at her legs screamed at her, begging on its hands and knees for her to reconsider, as she stared at the mirror. Reminded her that it was madness and whatever she had seen before had knocked her out. Just because she had forgotten and blocked it out didn't mean she had to remind herself.

But that was exactly why she had to to see it.

Nami couldn't not see her new face. You couldn't just avoid something like that, growing queasy at every peripheral reflection off glass. Some things you had to face head on, damn the consequences. That was it, really.

Some things you just had to face head on.

With a wobbly two or three strides, she found herself in front of the mirror. A thousands different thoughts raced through her head, though later she would be able to recall none of them, as she reached out. The second her fingers hesitantly brushed against the manufactured wood, the voices quitened and she was left with a clear head.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Her arm seemed to convulse, shooting out in a blur and awkwardly knocking Vivi's cosmetics to the ground with a _clatter_ , returning with the mirror before she blink. Nami closed her eyes, raised the mirror as if in deep prayer, and opened them.

Her hair was the same eye-catching vivid orange, she thought with relief, unaware that she had even feared that the Pirate Hunter's sword would somehow change that. Her, often described as doe by smitten sailors, brown eyes blinked back at her, same as ever.

That was where the similarities with her (old) face ended.

The same jagged and uneven, as if a child had squiggled them in with a dark crayon, stitches coated her once creamy skin. Overlapping over taut skin, giving the appearance of wrinkles and crinkles around her eyes, and the same enflamed skin that plagued the rest of her body. The angry red rash coated her cheekbones and spread down towards her neck, tapering off around her mouth.

The mirror fell from numb fingers, landing on the desert princess's bed with an unsatisfying _clunk_. Shatter, she found herself thinking wildly, break apart you stupid thin-

Her marred legs finally buckled out from underneath her and Nami feel nearly gratefully down on the carpet. Tears pooled down her cheeks, traveling over the bumpy red, and dripped onto the carpet. The leak became a flood.

And Nami let herself weep.

Though she did not faint.

She clung to that, at least.

* * *

The air was itself was charged with the tension as the caravel drew closer and closer to the snowy island, the tall mountains growing and sharper and larger by the second. The waves lapped against the hull with their frothy whiteness, glaciers half-hidden by mist in the distance.

Vivi drummed her fingers lightly against the railing, watching the light snow land and dissolve on the wood, and sighed. Almost instinctively, her head moved towards the direction where Nami's room (Vivi had started bunking with the boys, Nami needed a safe space) was.

And things had been moving so well.

Nami had left her room the day before on shaky legs, frail and pale but burning with determination, just in time to feel the brunt of Luffy's new powers. Just in time to see Wapol's men part before Luffy, just in time to see Luffy reach the egocentric exiled king.

Just in time to hear the sickening crunch as Luffy's open palms smashed into Wapol's gut, sending the coward right back into his submarine with a satisfying crash. Wapol's men had taken one fleeting look at Luffy's snarl and decided that, oath or not, there are somethings that aren't worth dying over for your country and king.

Truth be told, Vivi and the others had not even noticed that Nami was awake and moving until she tripped over Mr. Bushido's body. The startled omph noise had locked all eyes on the pale fallen navigator, whose eyes were frozen inches from her tormentor.

Even then, against all odds, Nami had managed to get back up. Her lips set in a line, she had looked at her gaping onlookers with an eyebrow raised in defiance. The simple yet cocky movement conveying all of Nami's usual sass and swagger. Conveying a message of "you didn't really think that'd keep me down, did you?" Usopp had let out a weak chuckle. A small and tentative smile had graced Sanji's ashen face. Even Vivi had a felt a weight loosen from her body, replaced by welcome warmth.

And in that moment, Wapol's incoherent threats fading into the background, all was well.

Then Luffy had stepped forward, eyes sparkling with happiness and pure and utter _relief_ , with his mouth curved into its usual smile and the hat which had shadowed his face had finally fallen back. Nami had put her arms on her hips, a wry grin on her face. "Kinda shocked to find the ship in one piece, no offense Luf-"

Luffy's new power (could it even be considered Luffy's power when he had zero control over it?), as if sensing new blood, had once again lashed out. The blast had seemed to breeze through the rest of them, briefly ruffling through Vivi's blue hair, before slamming full force into Nami's scarred form.

Nami's eye had rolled up and she had fallen onto Mr. Bushido in a tangle of limbs, the dull thud of her fall echoing through the still and silent air. Vivi hadn't even seen the navigator fall, truth be told. She had focused on Luffy the second the power had erupted, realising what it was going to do.

She had seen the light die from his eyes as his crewmate fell, seen the slump in his shoulder. Seen how much the power was killing the once so full of life pirate and seen what it had reduced him to.

And, looking around at her downtrodden friends (looking at the dead look in their eyes), Vivi had came to a decision. She had to break her promise to Mr. Bushido about not revealing information she had no right to know. She was going to explain to Luffy what Conqueror's Haki was and how to hopefully control it and, most importantly perhaps, how to not let it control you.

And if Mr. Bushido would have handled things differently?

Tough.

He shouldn't have let a bug bite him when he knew that an insect on Little Garden carried a deadly virus. Shouldn't have let his guard down, so completely and utterly down, that a child could sneak up on him and paint a hypnotic symbol on his back. Shouldn't have done so many things.

And so Vivi had sat Luffy down at the kitchen table and explained to him as gently as she could manage, though dancing around the subject would never really work with a straightforward person like Luffy (you couldn't trust him to fill in the unsaid gaps), about the power that was capable of bringing a kingdom to its knees: The Haki of the Conquering King.

She had woven him a story about hearing it as an Alabastian folk legend and as tall tales from passing spice merchants in the harbours she had visited and, with a pang of guilt, she had watched the rubber teen easily accept the answer. Hardening her resolve, VIvi had told her everything she knew about the power so elusive that it had passed on into legend.

About how it thrived off of the user, always a bit too eager to unleash. How it was said to feed off of emotions. About how it naturally calmed down when not in tense situations. Easier when the tension was from a fight to the death and not a potential backstabbing crewmate and the woman he had destroyed, obviously, but the base message was the same: remove the source of the tension and the Haki should return to being something you controlled...instead of the other way around.

Vivi honestly wasn't even sure how much of what she told Luffy was true and how much was wishful thinking fabricated up by people enthralled by the tales of the one in a million power. She had only seen flashes of Luffy using it in Wado Ichimonji's stored memories and then he had always looked perfectly in control, not a drop of hesitation in his eyes. Then again, that Luffy had been trained by "The Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh (the amount of infamous people that the Straw Hats had known still made her head spin), so she was flying blind when it came to learning how to control it.

She had tentatively suggested that any form of stress release would be better than nothing. It certainly couldn't hurt anyway and, she thought to herself, anything to take Luffy's mind off things would help tremendously.

Basically, she had told Luffy and Sanji to beat the living tar out of each other.

And to her delight, it seemed to have worked.

Luffy was plonked on top of Merry's head, snow falling lightly down on his sentry form as they approached the winter island. He spun his tattered hat lazily on one finger with eyes half closed, a soft smile on his face. The savage beatdown that had masqueraded as a spar had really helped Luffy loosen up. And that was one less problem for Vivi.

And sure there was none of his usual infectious cheer and over-excitement and there was an electric undercharge of power in the air around him, but it was a start. Baby steps, the sand princess reminded herself, baby steps.

As they got close enough to the island to see the individual snow-laden pine trees, Vivi turned to Sanji. The fidgety cook stood at the helm, eyes occasionally flickering towards Nami's room, white-knuckled fists clenched as he guided the Going Merry down a convenient nearby river that snaked in through the island from the coast.

As Sanji's pinched eyes strayed towards Nami's room for the third time that minute alone, Vivi frowned. Taking in his haggard face and battered frame, the frown grew deeper. While the frenzied spar yesterday evening had done wonders for Luffy, the same could not be said for Sanji. The blond man had seemed to fold into himself even more, barely speaking above monosyllable or grunts.

Even more worrying was that Vivi had yet to see Sanji asleep since that night nearly a week ago where he had collapsed, sobbing, into her arms. True he may have been catching snatches of sleep in the kitchen where, admittedly, Sanji now spent most of his time.

But some intuitive part of Vivi felt otherwise and that troubled her. She would have asked the cook if she had any idea how to phrase the question without sounding like an overbearing mother hen. The last thing that any of them needed.

"Sanji," Luffy said, his hat now resting between his knees, "feel that? Trouble ahead."

"Hmm?" Sanji replied, his clouded eyes not moving from the narrowing river in front of them.

Luffy tilted his head far back, stretching it to a near ninety degree angle from his body, brown eyes studying Sanji. "Do you not feel it? Through your Haki?"

Sanji started, his arms confulsing momentarily and nearly sending the ship into the banks, and his blank eyes brightened. "Oh yeah," he muttered, absent-mindedly turning his head towards Vivi, "people up ahead of this next bend."

Usopp flinched, abandoning whatever contraption he had been fiddling with, and leaned closer towards the helm. "Marines? Pirates?"

Luffy shook his head, sending it back to his body with a rubbery snap. "Nope, just locals. But they're pissed," he added after hearing Usopp sigh in relief.

As Usopp yelped, Sanji turned the helm and the easy going caravel turned the bend into a naturally formed inlet. Vivi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hardly daring to breath.

They were surrounded.

Dozens of armed men and women stood around the Going Merry in a crude semi-circle, all scowls and hostile glares. One towering man in a fur-lined, long green tunic strode forward of the rest. "Leave this place!"

Luffy stood up, looking utterly ridiculous on the sheep figurehead. "We just need to see a doctor for someone on the ship."

The local man scowled, face looking like it was chiseled from stone. "A likely story, foul pirate. Do not make me repeat myself, begone!"

Luffy's eyes were blazing defiance. "No."

One of the more eager men raised his rifle with a snarl and, whether accidentally or purposely, fired. The foul stench of gunsmoke filled the air and the bang of the bullet rushing through space dominated the tense and otherwise silent landscape.

The bullet smashed into Luffy's chest, sending him sprawling onto deck, his hat flying into the winter air.

And the Haki of the Conquering King exploded through the clearing.

Watching men collapse to their knees, eyes rolling up into the back of their heads and foaming at the mouths, Vivi let out a sigh.

Baby steps, she reminded herself as Luffy yelped and chased after his errant hat.

Baby steps.

* * *

The last of the the bunny rabbits fell to the blast of the power (Vivi had called it the Haki of Kings or something but, to Luffy, it was still the power), falling down onto the snow with a simpering whimper. Luffy absent-mindedly pushed one of the larger ones out of his way, the burly beast falling with a flop onto the packet snow.

Were these weaklings really the bloodthirsty beasts that that Dolt fellow had warned him to avoid? No, couldn't be. He had seen animals twice as big back home on Mt. Corvo! Luffy spared the fallen animals one final glance before pressing on towards his goal: the Drum Rockies.

The cylindrical mountains contrasted ominously against the soft ambers of the setting sun, sending dark shadows down across the ground for miles around. Luffy shivered, already being nestled deep within the shadows not helping, as the temperature continued to plummet and the snowfall grow heavier. WIthout a doubt, there would be a blizzard soon. Though he hoped to be halfway up the tallest of the Rockies by then and out of the storm's eye, well on the way to his target: the elusive doctor.

Or well he hoped that he was on his way to a doctor, he wasn't one hundred percent sure. Dolt (had the man in the fur-lined green tunic been called Dolt? Dolt sounded right but he wasn't certain…) had told him that the only doctor lived out here in seclusion, which was awfully convenient for Dolt who really wanted Luffy out of his hair. And sure Dolt had seemed honourable enough and Luffy's Observation Haki, inexperienced as it was, hadn't picked but any lies but still…

It was awfully convenient.

Honestly, Luffy probably shouldn't have just accepted Dolt's words for fact but he had been a little stunned at the fact that Dolt hadn't passed out from the burst of the power back at the Going Merry. After they had disembarked, they had found him: on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. The Devil Fruit user, or at least Luffy was pretty sure the weird itch in his Haki was because of a Fruit (it felt animalistic...Zoan maybe?), had shakingly rose to his feet and looked like he was going to still tell them to leave. Then he had seen Nami held reverently in Sanji's arms, bridal style.

And that was the main reason Luffy had trusted Dolt's information in the end. Because Dolt had given him the information out of the goodness of his heart and not because Luffy had forced his hand. Still, Luffy wasn't dumb enough to think that just because Dolt had changed his tune that it meant that everyone else was. No, that was why he had left Sanji behind to guard Vivi and Usopp.

He would never forgive himself if even more people got hurt on his watch.

Adjusting Nami slightly on his left shoulder, absent-mindedly staring at the twinkling stars starting to appear in the darkening sky, and trying to lift Zoro just a tad bit higher up on the right (he was basically just dragging the swordsman through the snow at this point), Luffy pressed on. And that was how, looking like the world's saddest weighing scales, Luffy finally reached the towering cliff of rock that was the greatest of the Drum Rockies.

Staring up at the monolithic object carved by Mother Nature herself, which jutted up into the heavens (no end in sight), Luffy let out a timid pulse of Observation Haki upwards. He winced and gulped when his maximum range didn't even let him sense anything his eyes couldn't already see.

Taking a deep breath, and making sure the triple knots securing his crewmates were still tight and secured, he started the climb towards the doctor he could only pray existed.

From the very beginning, it was hell.

His very nerves were screaming from the the effort and his limbs started to shake after only a minute of climbing, Zoro and Nami seeming to grow heavier and heavier on his back. Zoro especially was quite literally dragging him down, Luffy's right side an inch lower than his left as the deadweight fought to obey the laws of gravity. His fingernails and toenails splintered and broke off, fingers and toes chafed and bloody.

Time seemed to bleed together as Luffy climbed. His eyelids were heavy weights on his face as the night grew old. He wasn't sure if he could even track time anymore. What he felt was seconds, could be minutes. His minutes, hours. Around the quarterway mark, he let himself have a few seconds of rest. Struggling to even take in air, he stared and stared at the full moon high in the sky. He faintly remembered the moon not even being out when he had started the climb but, so high in the sky, stuff that had happened below felt like a dream.

As he resumed his climb, fingers and toes feeling like they were being ground down to the bone, he noticed that he couldn't feel the pain or cold anymore. Couldn't feel anything at all, everything muted.

Numb.

Somewhere between the quarter mark and the halfway point, Luffy began to think of the lock and only the lock. Fantasizing about how much easier it would be to climb if he could finally break down the lock and gain the boon that was armour, obsidian protection for his skin (blue? Skin wasn't meant to be blue, was it? He couldn't quite remember…). The most frustrating part was that, for all intents and purposes, the lock was broken.

Over the course of the last week, the tension that had been Luffy's day-to-day life had all but ruined the lock. Giant spiderweb cracks ran through the once gleaming gold, now reduced to rusted iron. The once near ceremonial-looking great chain now hung by an inch, warped and distorted.

Luffy thought he was nearing the top now, his resolve hardened at the thought of reaching the doctor. He was on fire yet cold, mind going a mile a minute yet sluggish. His eyes finally closed and, with a sigh, Luffy fell.

And, against the very edge of his consciousness, something pinged against his Haki: the familiar and comforting warmth of people.

Dolt had told him the truth, the doctor existed.

…

The doctor existed.

Luffy's eyes snapped open, brown warped black by pure defiant willpower. His twisted body fought for purchase against the rock, the stone gleefully gnawing at his flesh as he fell. Leaving streaks of blood in its wake.

He would not die here.

Zoro and Nami would not die here.

The lock snapped.

The stone behind his limbs shattered and his hands were gleaming obsidian as Luffy roared.


	21. Chapter 21

The vast and endless encasement that was Zoro's mindscape had never felt so small, so confined.

Zoro, not for the first time (and certainly not for the last), glared at his older self. The self-proclaimed "Bushido" was sitting in a cross-legged pose, thumbs of each hand pressed together as he breathed in and out.

That was another thing. What the hell was with Bushido, it still somehow felt like a loss against the older man that he had mentally started referring to him by Bushido (the problem was that any insults could also apply to him), and meditating?

Bushido seemed to abhor the idea of doing anything else if meditation was an option. Whenever they weren't talking, and talk they did (Zoro would be a fool to ignore any pearls of wisdom a more experienced swordsman bestowed, even if they were mere scraps), Bushido was meditating.

And the worst part was that Zoro couldn't think of a better way for Bushido to spend his time, meditating seemed like the optimal solution. Conversations between the two were always awkward, both trying and failing to avoid the elephant in the room: that fact that they were two people in a body built for one. Add in the fact that Bushido was angry about Zoro killing that octopus fishman (which frankly sucked, Zoro was dying to ask what that strange sixth sense he had used had been about), who he had gathered had been a friend of Bushido's in the future, and conversations were a guranteed no.

Sparing was also out of the question completely. Both men had too much emotional baggage and, besides that, knew each other too well. Well, Bushido certainly knew Zoro a great deal more than Zoro knew Bushido but he was pretty sure he knew Bushido's general fighting style...he had invented it after all. And that was ignoring still the fact the Bushido being as strong as he was, incomprehensibly strong from what Zoro had seen of it, any spar would be laughably one-sided.

A fact that Zoro could personally attest to, having fought Bushido only an hour or so ago (though God only knows how long had passed outside the mindscape. Days? Weeks? The possibilities made his head spin so he tried his damn best to focus only in the moment….easier said than done when there was nothing to focus on besides the meditating green-haired enigma).

He had been destroyed.

Utterly.

If Zoro was being generous, a rarity for him, the spar had lasted ten seconds at most. Bushido had flickered out of existence (What had Bushido called it again? Soru?), momentarily leaving a bewildered Zoro wondering if Bushido had somehow ascended to the afterlife and if that meant Zoro was back in control, before reappearing and delivering a vicious sucker punch to Zoro's upturned head.

Seeing double, and with ringing ears, Zoro had fallen to his knees with a groan. Every battle-honed sense in his body screamed for him to keep moving, stopping and groveling on the ground would mean his death, so he rolled to the side. With a snarl, he had hurled himself back to his feet and into the air, he had attempted a desperate tackle.

An ebony fist had awaited his effort, smashing into his face while an equally hardened leg ruptured his ribcage.

The next few minutes (seconds?) had been a haze. Slipping between a crude caricature sleep (there was nowhere further to retreat to, this was the final haven of the mind after all) and fits of surreal awakeness where his eyesight swam in front of him, glimmers of colours that did not exist in the blackness shooting across like dying stars.

Eventually, with a loud groan, he rolled over onto his hands and knees. One arm snaked up to cradle his burning chest, nearly crying out as he felt the way the skin sagged (the once sturdy collection of bones reduced to something you'd expect to see at the bottom of a used mortar). Teeth bared, Kuina's vow echoing through his head, he glared up at Bushido. "I wouldn't risk killing me," Zoro managed to rasp, "no clue what will happen to you if I go."

The older swordsman had shot him a look that conveyed just how lowly he thought of his younger self, eye full of condescension and a sort of sad pity. "Are you an idiot?"

Anger had twisted his face, drawing out the worst features in him, as he snarled. "Shut the hell up." It was a testament to his self-restraint that he did not lash out. A small niggling voice at the back of his mind muttered that it was a testament to his cowardice.

Bushido had only sighed, the simple action causing Zoro's teeth to grind against each other. "Listen...where are we exactly?"

Righteous indignation had welled up inside of Zoro, thundering through his veins like hot lead, and he unsteadily rose to his feet. The simple action nearly made him scream, shards of bone gleefully tearing and hacking away at his stomach lining, only his pride (that underlying characteristic of his was both a boon and a bane) kept his mouth closed and his vocal cords silent. A beat passed, unwilling to speak out loud (unwilling to hear if his voice would break and make him whimper), he hissed. "In a prison."

The ebony on the older man had seemed to gleam in the dark void. "Don't be coy."

He had trembled, a twitchy mixture of pain and rage, fists curling and uncurling repeatedly. "I'm not," he finally said, voice full of venom, "that's exactly what this is."

"Fine, be like that." Bushido had rolled his eyes, more fuel for Zoro's fire. "But it's a _mental_ prison."

The emphasis on the word had made Zoro pause momentarily, but it took far more than that to hold back the flames of righteous anger, before he had snarled back. "Even worse. I could at least have a decent shot at escaping a real prison."

"You really are insistent on focusing on the negatives of this, aren't you? No matter." Bushido has responded with a small smirk. "Mental. As in, not real."

Zoro had stilled, shrewdly squinting across the void at the older man. "What?"

"You are imagining the pain, subconsciously commanding your nerves to conjure it up," Bushido had explained, amusement dancing in his good eye, "I doubt it would work on a normal person nearly effectively. But you and me, well, we're familiar with the concept of dishing out and taking pain. We can simulate it."

Zoro had paused, mouth hanging open. It couldn't be that easy...could it? Could he really just wish away the pain? Focusing on the powdered remains of his ribcage bubbling in his gut, he imagined the bones regrowing and locking back together into their original position. Pain had smashed through his body, coursing from head to toe. That time he did scream, the howl echoed through the void. Throat raw, he had fallen to his knees again.

Another paroxysm of pain had swept through his body, leaving him curled in a ball on the ground. A moment of respite, and then the burning hot pain flared again. Sweaty hands had clawed at his gut as he struggled to even draw breath, and, for a single moment, he thought his mind was going to shatter from the pain. His sanity had been slipping and shattering, weathered and cracked at the edges.

Then the pain had passes and his hands were pressed against a no longer sagging gut: ribcage restored. Discreetly dabbing at his eyes, whether he had cried even he would never know, he had rolled to his feet. Absent-mindedly, he had fixed his broken and bleeding nose, a sharp flare of pain throbbing under the skin as the nose had cracked back into place. Feeling like he had been declawed, from a prowling tiger to a little kitten, he gazed up at Bushido.

"Well." Bushido had given him an awkward smile, the edges not reaching his eye. "Seems my theory was correct."

Not feeling the once so easy to grasp anger, he hadn't retorted. And so the silence had continued until now. Seconds blurred into minutes, minutes into hours. Looking at his mediating older self, he had finally decided to break the ice again. "How much time do you think has passed?" He ventured.

Bushido's good eye cracked open and he sighed. "Who knows?" He shrugged, an ugly self-deprecating smirk on his face, and spoke. "I'd guess it's been a week, give or take. Body should nearly be good to go."

The unspoken if the Straw Hats had bothered to get them a doctor hung between them in the air, sending a shudder down Zoro's spine.

Licking his lips, Zoro said. "So, time travel?"

Bushido stiffened slightly, eye getting that faraway look that occurs when one is reliving old memories, his lips thinning into a line. "What of it?" His voice sounded light and casual to the common ear but to someone who knew him, really knew him, it was laced heavily with hurt and warning.

Zoro should know, it was the voice he used when someone asked why he wanted to be the best.

Zoro took a deep breath, it was now or never, and asked the question that had been plaguing him since he had been trapped in the mindscape. "I know the main reason you travelled back was to save that Luffy guy but...I just wondered…" Zoro trailed off, eyes not quite meeting Bushido's blank stare.

Bushido nodded tightly, the thin lips morphing into a grimace. "Out with it."

Zoro took the plunge, knowing the answer could change things between them completely. "Did you fulfill Kuina's wish? Did you uphold the vow you made when you picked up her blade?"

The guilty look in Bushido's one eye, filled with pain, was answer enough.

And Zoro, on some level, understood.

Finally understood.

* * *

"It's Wapol! He's returned!"

The panicked, terrified yell just about broke through the glaze that was Sanji's mind. The frantic undertone swimming though the sluggish river that was Sanji's thought process. For a few seconds he continued to suck the last dregs of precious nicotine, slurping the old tobacco between his lips as he tried to comprehend the simple sentence, his fried brain turning the sentence over and over again in his mind.

A hesitant voice. "Sanji?"

Sanji cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at the voice's owner: a beautiful blue-haired girl, Vivi his mind supplied helpfully after a moment, who's worried blue eyes glittered up at him. "What are you going to do?"

The nicotine brushed against his teeth, and he could imagine his teeth yellowing (might as well reflect the scum he was inside), as he stared at her. "About what?"

Her brow furrowed. "About Wapol, of course."

Wapol? Where had he heard that before? Oh, oh right, the villager running around like a chicken whose head had been chopped off. He watched him, already retreating back into the safe haven that was his tired mind, when flesh smacked against flesh and sharp pain blossomed across his cheek.

One hand almost absent-mindedly scratched at the cheek, momentarily relishing in the fresh sensory input, and an involuntary goofy smile tugged at his lips. He rocked on his heels, nearly toppling over, and felt his eyes begin to glaze over again. "Ow," he said, more for the sake of it than anything.

The girl, Vivi, seized the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him forward, scrunching the fine material between her shaking fingers, and so that their heads were inches from each other. He could feel the warm air from her breath wafting across his skin as she hissed, "get your damn act together!"

He blinked, feeling the grains of sleep in his eyelashes, and finally croaked out. "What?"

Another slap. More pain to get him awake, keep him standing. "I'm saying that it's about damn time you stopped wallowing in self pity and did your bloody job."

Spitting out the chewed remains of the cigarette, and dimly realising with a small flush of shame that he had never even lit the cancer stick, he replied. "I'm the cook."

"A sorry sleep-deprived excuse for a cook who's been starving himself, yeah," she said, ignoring Usopp's gasp and the way Sanji had been sent reeling back by the callous words, "but you're also the highest ranking crew member here so bloody well do something!"

Wide awake, eyes panicked, his mind jump-started from excuse to cover up with rapid fire speed. How had she noticed? He thought that he had covered his tracks...thought he was being coy with his "naps" in the kitchen and the way he started to divide his meal portions, the largest going to Luffy even if the captain's hunger levels were tiny compared to their usual standard, amongst the crews. Thought that his penance had gone unnoticed by all. "N-no," he protested weakly.

Vivi glowered up with him, hands on her hips. "And don't you worry, we will be dealing with those afterwards but, for now, go out there and beat the crap out of that egotistical king!"

Sanji staggered towards the door that led from Dalton's house to the sleepy village, obeying orders (not fleeing, never fleeing), his skin gone completely pale white. Away from Usopp's horrified gaze and Vivi's accusing stare. "Oh, and Sanji?" He turned, half knowing, half dreading, and Vivi was a blur. A second later and the red apple was being stuffed down his throat and Vivi, looking every bit the warrior princess in that moment, holding his mouth shut.

His choices were clear: break his fast and penance for what he had done to Nami (he had ruined her, he had to suffer alongside her...it was the least he could've done) or eat and not choke and _survive_.

He swallowed the apple mush.

It tasted like ash and curdled milk going doing his throat but he ate it.

By god, he ate it.

Tears dripping down his face as he realized just how much of an idiot he had been (starving himself to make up for something? Zef would've killed him for doing something so asinine), mind in perfect clarity despite nearly a week working off little to no sleep, Sanji marched to defeat an egotistical mad king.

Marched to protect the only doctor who could help from the threat.

Marched for Nami.

* * *

Tony Tony Chopper often told himself that he didn't care that humans hated and were disgusted by him on sight. Told himself that he didn't wilt in on himself when patient opened their eyes, oh and the joy that Chopper felt when people who he wasn't sure would pull through opened their eyes again, and saw the emotions in their eyes when they laid eyes on Chopper.

Happiness, relief, confusion, curiosity and so many, many more.

And then Chopper spoke.

Anger, fear, disgust and horror in its many forms.

So Choppe had long ago decided that it wasn't worth getting worked up about humans, where they were from and how they had ended up the way they were. No, all Chopper cared about was how they had gotten their injuries and how to treat them. Yes, it was much simpler that way. Took the sting out of their rejection.

Then a single man had climbed the tallest of the Drum Rockies with two people loosely tied across his back, a woman covered in jagged, crude stitchings and a man infected with a disease long thought eradicated.

The rock had shattered and crumbled beneath the man, his fingers obsidian (Doctorine had only cackled when Chopper had mentioned the strange disappearing armour, he wondered if she didn't believe him) as he had climbed to the top. Chopper had grabbed the man as he reached the top and, for the few seconds before the man had collapsed, there had been a heaviness in the air.

Even now, the mere memory of it made his fur bristle and stand on end. Chopper hadn't even tried to explain it to Doctorine, couldn't have. No words could describe the feeling. Still...something happened.

His hooves clip-clopping against the dreary stone floor brought him back to the present, shivering despite his fur as he made his patient rounds. He passed the room that held the two male patients and peaked inside. Moonlight bathed the room in its glow, illuminating the two beds and their occupants.

The green-haired had thrown his quilt off since Chopper's last round and was spread-eagled across the bed, dressed only in boxers in the drafty room. The mess of scar tissue that made up the center of his chest was proudly on display, a stark contrast to the tanned skin beside it. He was sweating less, and no longer moaning, a good sign that his fever was letting up.

As he struggled to toss the heavy quilt back on the unconscious man, his short arms trembling from the effort, he shook his head. Honestly how does someone manage to contract a disease thought eradicated centuries ago? Smoothing out the quilt with one hoof, he gently peeled back the eyelid of the man's ruined eye. A milky iris stared back up at him, and not for the first time, Chopper wondered what was wrong with it.

Chopper glanced at the black-haired teen, who had squirreled himself up in quilt while he was asleep, and began changing his bandages. Satisfied that the frostbite had healed and that gangrene had not set in, and that the week old slash wounds had not been infected, he finished the bandaging with a flourish. Sparing the men one last glance, he left the room.

Onto his final patient: the stitching girl as he had started calling her.

He entered the room absent-mindedly, thinking of new concoctions to test the next time Doctorine let him experiment, when the was brought up short. Stitching girl was sitting upright in bed and looking straight at him. She gave him an awkward little wave, the moonlight catching off her twined skin. "Hi."

"H-hey," Chopper instinctively mumbled, he immediately winced and poked his hooves against each other, before steeling his resolve and looking up at the stitching girl. He would not falter when he saw the usual disgust and fear humans felt when they saw a talking animal.

Wouldn't let it hurt him.

Instead the girl smiled, the simple action making her brown eyes sparkle and lighting up the room, and instantly became the prettiest girl Chopper had ever seen. "I'm Nami. What's your name?"

She didn't hate or fear him. She only wanted to know his name.

This time he did not mumble or stutter. This time his voice was filled with inexplicable pride.

"Tony Tony Chopper, resident doctor."


	22. Chapter 22

Bushido finally opened his eyes, the once-scarred eye still stubbornly showing nothing but a cloudy mist, to cold granite. For a moment his brain stalled (granite? Merry's ceiling was hearty wood not cold stone…), then the implications settled in and he nearly let out a whoop.

He wasn't on Merry. They had brought him to a doctor. To Drum.

To Chopper.

They hadn't abandoned him.

And for just a moment, a warm and comforting blanket draped across his lower body, he let himself just grin and bask in the underserved show of trust.

Then, on the other side of the room, Luffy let out a snore. And everything came crashing down around Bushido's head. His fingers bunched up the woollen blanket, digging further and further into the warm material, as the full weight of his actions bore down upon his soul. A ball of anger and self-loathing sat heavy in his chest and Bushido felt his throat tightening. He wanted to lash out, to hurt someone, but there was no one.

It was all his own damn fault.

He had let his guard down. He of all people, had deemed the situation safe and had relaxed; confident that he could handle anything Little Garden could throw at him. Had he learned anything from the incident back at Sabaody all those years ago? Or in the days and weeks that followed, bloody and bandaged fingers clutching at the yellowing newspaper clipping, as he looked down at the black and white photo of a solemn Luffy holding a bouquet of flowers juxtaposed against the grinning face of Ace?

Confidence kills.

He had known that Mr. 3's partner had played some part in what happened in Little Garden and, in hindsight, it was so obvious that she had been the one with the mind control paints. How the hell had that slipped through his mind? That had been the main treacherous thought niggling through his mind while he had been trapped in his mind, a prisoner in his body.

How?

The answer was nearly deceptive in its simpleness, she hadn't done anything last time. Period. Sure, she had managed to get control of Luffy, but she hadn't actually done anything with him. Someone had broken Luffy free (here his memory was especially blurry, he couldn't remember how Luffy had been freed...had Usopp done something?) and as a result, no one had been really hurt by her.

Hell, he was even pretty sure that Luffy had mentioned something about Carue, Vivi's oversized duck, landing the final blow on the little girl.

And so the girl- she had nearly killed them all and Bushido still couldn't remember her codename- had been reduced to a footnote at the back of Bushido's mind on Little Garden. Something he couldn't remember, no matter how much he had tried, until his memory had been stimulated.

And stimulated it had been. In the worst possible way.

Why had he let his guard down in enemy territory? Why hadn't he just viewed the memories on the ship late at night when everyone was asleep? It hadn't been that urgent. So, why? Why had he hesitated so long before trying to give control to his younger self? He should've done so the second he figured out that he couldn't break free.

Why. Why. Why.

The same questions continuously vibrated in his head over and over, taunting him with his failures. For him, it had only been a few hours since Little Garden.

The wounds were still fresh and raw for Bushido.

He had been grateful, though he struggled to show it (his younger self was great at pushing his buttons), for the company of his younger self in the mindscape. If he had been on his own with just Nami's haunting screams echoing in his ears and the image of her bloody and broken body seared into the back of his eyelids whenever he closed them, he wasn't sure how he would've handled it.

The silence would've been...maddening.

Sitting in the silent stone room, it feeling akin to a closed tomb, with nothing breaking the silence but his own soft breaths and Luffy's on-off snores, he could feel the memories boiling in their intensity. When his eyes blinked, the image of Nami fallen before him seemed more _vivid_ , the blood a shade brighter, the jungle just a slight luscious shade deeper of greens and browns. Nami's garbled and distorted pleadings now were clear as day, assaulting his ears.

 _Zoro...why_

Bushido jumped out of the bed, the freezing cold stone attacking his sense of touch as he hopped awkwardly on the pads of his feet. The icy cold sent jolts of pain running up his sluggish legs, the limbs stinging as fresh blood finally thundered through his veins again. His feet idly carried him to the window overviewing the cropping the castle was situated on, hands idly undoing the rusted latch and letting the cold air in.

The metallic grey sky was streaked with rays of soft ambers and vivid violets, the edge of the sun just visible peering over the snowy horizon. Bushido let out a breath, the beautiful sight banishing the dark turn his thoughts were taking, and let his Haki softly spread out across the decrepit castle.

Four vastly different presences pinged back against his Haki, sending a wave of mixed emotions back to Bushido. He paused, sucking in the crisp and delightfully cold air, as his mind categorised the presences. The old hag (it seemed he had made a habit of forgetting people's names…), Chopper, Nami and Luffy.

The hag had a sort of wise content air around her, the sort of aura he only ever sensed off the old and the people who had figured out what they wanted to do in life...and were doing it. A small sliver of unease flickered through her, not the kind of worry that would keep you up at night but enough that the mere thought of it could spoil any happy occasion, slowly growing brighter. "Wapol," Bushido said out loud, watching the icy mist escaping from his mouth as his fingers curled around the icy window ledge, "Wapol and the lack of doctors in Drum."

Chopper's aura was that, quite frankly, of a child. Bubbly, innocent and oh so naive. The kind of aura Bushido expected any young child to have really. But there was a darker, more bitter, undertone to that. Anger, fear, bitterness. Those emotions seemed to hang just below the surface of the reindeer's skin, dark reminders of his less than ideal early life. It was a true testament to Chopper that he hadn't let those jaded and cynical experiences rule over his entire life. And even further down, down in the marrow of Chopper's bone, was the animal. The base thing that lived only by instincts, the thing that had been all but annihilated by the eating of the Hito Hito no Mi.

Bushido stiffened the moment Nami's aura brushed against his consciousness. "No," he said, his skin paling and goosebumps rising on his skin as his curled fingers shattered the ice built up on the window ledge, "no." The happy and mischievous glittering aura, chipped away by hardships but still glowing in spite of it all, was gone.

Shattered into a million little pieces.

The golden hue of her aura was gone, just gone. It didn't even have the impression of a colour anymore, something all vibrant and strong souls had. It was just _there_. Hanging in the air in vapourish wisps, like a light fog in the early morning air. A meek and hurt vibe rolled off her softly, almost hesitantly. As if it was worried that the simple act would hurt her even more.

A far cry from the mischievous and vibrant personality that it had replaced.

Ignoring the deep pang of pain and grief, he moved on.

Onto Luffy.

Luffy's presence still burned like the sun incarnate, enveloping everything around it in its warmth. Even muted in sleep, the sheer and utter brilliance of it nearly blinded Bushido's other senses. Small rivulets of unease ran through it, dotted patterns akin to that of a constellation of a night sky. Stress marks on his aura caused by worry and stress.

A colourful faucet of hope and human goodness, multi-faceted and formed by Luffy's turbulent life. He had seen the good and the bad of humanity and had come out stronger because of it. A natural leader, followers flocking to him like moths to the flame.

But it had changed in a way that was both drastic yet subtle (and wasn't that a paradox in itself?) since Bushido had last felt it. It had morphed into something that reminded him, so much so that it caused his chest to ache, of the old Luffy.

Now an electrical undercurrent of power and dominance ran through it, glowing in its absoluteness.

It seemed that his younger self hadn't been mistaken when he described how he had lost against Luffy.

The Haki of the Conquering King.

The stress had managed to unlock Luffy's hidden power, the one in a million weapon of legend and folklore. The power to bend and break the will of fellow man and to totally dominate any creature of lower intelligence.

Bushido's fingers drummed against the cold stone ledge as he fully processed the new information. The power was surging erratically under Luffy's skin, jumping from nearly nothing to full blast. A dark, swirling maelstrom throwing out its tendrils in a desperate effort to further dominate Luffy.

Bushido fought back a soft smile at the sight of the fraying tendrils and the near meek look of the so-great power. Luffy had been in a desperate, stressful situation and had not had anyone to discuss the power with. And yet still he had not buckled.

He had truly shown that he was deserving of having won the genetic lottery when it came to the power.

Luffy's aura snapped like elastic without any warning, a cluster of emotions tumbling out in every direction and drowning each other out. His aura shone even brighter, a beacon throughout Drum for anyone who could sense it (which was just Bushido and Sanji, but still) and the great Haki swarmed to the edges of Luffy's aura, tasting the air.

Bushido tightened his body as a wall of the absolute Haki smashed into him, his teeth bared and the hairs on his body stood up. Its presence in the air was suffocating, commanding him to buckle and break in the face of absoluteness.

But Bushido had faced down stronger Haki than this and, with one final growl, threw the presence off. It lingered, stunned, in the air for a moment before falling back inside its vessel. Bushido took one final deep breath, good eye drinking in the landscape of the early morning, before turning around. "Luffy."

The rubber teen sat upright in his bed. His eyes were shadowed even with no hat to draw the shade from, the Haki coiled around his skin like a lazy serpent. "You." The word was uttered with venom, as if it was a foul curse.

Time to face the music, Bushido thought grimly, as he sauntered over.

He would abide by Luffy's decision, whatever it would be.

Luffy was his judge, jury and, though he hoped it never came to that (and it would interfere with his mission), executioner. Always had been. Always would be.

Unless his decision was for Bushido to stay away from the Straw Hat Pirates.

That was one order from his captain that he would break willingly.

* * *

The white soil indigenous to Baltigo crunched underneath his boots as he trudged the final few metres towards his main base. The building was crude, only a few storeys high, and carved from base stone. The antithesis of the Holy Land Mariejois and the grotesque caricature of humanity housed within its elegant ivory walls: the Celestial Dragons.

"H-halt", a quivering voice called out from the main gate once he was practically under the guard's nose, "state your purpose!" The shout came out rather meek, a cluster of frayed nerves as the guard waved his gun around.

Monkey. D. Dragon gripped the edge of his dark green hood and (he would deny his love for theatrics until his dying breath), with a smirk, pulled it down to reveal his face. The guard instantly paled ten shades and hastily saluted, sweating bullets. "Sir!"

Dragon frowned at the young man shaking in his boots in front of him. "You new here? I don't recognise your face, soldier."

"I-i-i was brought in two weeks ago...sir!" The guard started and added violently at the end, fearfully gazing up at Dragon as if he was going to smite the man with lightning from the sky.

Dragon's frown grew deeper. While the duty of gate guard was just a formality really (Baltigo was safely squirreled away in the heart of the Revolutionary territory and even if an enemy snuck this far in, they always had a couple of people capable of Haki stationed in Baltigo who could sense an intruder. And if there was someone who could mask their presence well enough to fool Dragon's top men, well, a gate guard wasn't going to stop them), it rubbed Dragon the wrong way to have someone this green at the entrance. "Who stationed you at the gate, soldier?"

"S-sabo, sir!"

Of course it was.

It seemed like all of Dragon's troubles these days led back to the amnesic blond. Taking Dragon's thoughtful silence as permission to speak freely, the guard clutched his gun even tighter as he pointed at Dragon. "S-sir Dragon, sir!" The guard practically screamed in Dragon's face. "I'll need to see some sort of ID and I'll need to call the base, sir!" The guard briefly nudged his gun towards the table inside the guard outpost, where the Den Den Mushi was located.

Dragon flickered out of existence, reappearing several metres behind the guard with the Den Den Mushi held lightly on top of his right palm. The guard squawked and wheeled around, nearly dropping the gun in the process. "Sir, wait!"

"Drop all the sirs and the yelling, soldier," Dragon called out over his shoulder as he hefted the burned and scarred Den Den Mushi closer to his face, "and do you know any other languages, by any chance?"

The out of left field question threw off the guard and, by extension, his nervousness. "Yeah, why?"

"Try and say the sentence in your head first in the other language," Dragon advised, "then imagine you are just translating it as you speak out loud...should help with your stutter problem."

"Sir!"

Dragon glared at the Den Den Mushi's twinkling eyes as he strided towards the main doors, passing soldiers saluting him as he passed while the higher-up men simply nodded at him. "I presume you were listening in?"

"I didn't know you cared," Sabo cooed, his voice tinny and distorted by the receiver, "you're just a big old softie under all those gruff and mysterious layers, aren't you?"

"Brat," Dragon muttered fondly as he entered the stone corridor, "I assume you have a minute?"

"Paperwork or you," Sabo's voice mused, "gimme a second to think over my options?"

"You in your office then?" The question was rhetorical in nature, a social nicety. He could feel Sabo's bright aura, dampened with boredom as he procrastinated doing his work, in the vicinity of his office.

"Yeah." Then a tinge of excitement clear even through the Den Den Mushi. "You got a mission for me?"

"Of a sort," Dragon agreed, "I need you to meet with one of Whitebeard's Commanders."

"Sure, consider it done," the voice said eagerly. A moment of silence with the only sounds being that of Dragon's boots echoing off the stone floor as he walked. Then the Den Den Mushi's eyes bulged in its sockets and the sounds of crashing furniture and piles of paperwork being knocked over blared through the receiver, you could always count on Sabo being clumsy when he was shocked. "Eh...mind running that one past me again? I think I misheard you…"

"Or more specifically the 2nd Division Commander," Dragon pressed on, drawing close to the real Sabo now, "the rookie who was making waves a while back, remember the guy?"

The Den Den Mushi had actually managed to pale, very impressive for a snail. "By god, you're actually serious about this. Allying with Whitebeard...forget ripples and waves, this is going to cause tsunamis." Now the voice was dead serious, the snail's eyes searching Dragon's. "You sure we're ready to make such a blatant move? The World Government won't be able to overlook such a blatant move, it'll mean all out war. And frankly speaking, assuming we even get Whitebeard's help, I'm not sure we would have the men or resources to last long against-"

"Calm yourself," Dragon interrupted, "I didn't say anything about allying up with Whitebeard."

"Don't mess with me, you so did!" Sabo accused, the snail's eyes glaring. "You said I'd have to meet up with the 2nd Division Commander of his crew."

"Indeed, but last time I checked," Dragon said, spotting the door to Sabo's office in the distance, "that doesn't make him Whitebeard."

A squawk of indignation. "You want to me go behind the back of one of the Yonko and meet up with one of his strongest and most loyal men. That right? Just want to make sure my facts are set straight."

Dragon shrugged. "In essence, yes."

"That's practically a suicide mission." A bubble of tinny laughter from the receiver. "But it beats the vast amounts of paperwork I have here."

Dragon smiled in spite of himself. "You know the man I am referring to, correct?"

"Portgaz, right? The Fire Fist himself," Sabo responded, "pretty powerful fruit he got a hold of there. Why is it so important that I talk to him?"

Dragon's fingers curled around the brass doorknob as he prepared to drop the bombshell that had been delivered to him at Loguetown by his son's crewmate. "He may be related to your past." The door screeched, Sabo should really oil the hinges more, as Dragon pulled it open.

The young man was silhouetted against the office's large oval window, cloaked against the sun's rays, as he perched on the edge of his upturned wooden desk. His right hand was extended towards the door, palm raised and spread out, but the gruff Den Den Mushi had clattered to the floor amongst the fallen paperwork. Sabo's face had gone deathly pale, highlighting the scarring on his face. "My past?" The words were barely a whisper on the wind.

"Don't get your hopes raised too high but, yes, I believe so."

New-found fire burned in Sabo's dark eyes. "I'll do it."

* * *

" _ZORO!"_

" _WHY?"_

Luffy let out a strangled gasp as he was ejected from his haunting nightmares and back into the equally nightmarish reality, Sweaty limbs were tangled in sweaty sheets and Luffy stared blankly up at a stone ceiling. Taking advantage of his confusion, the power burst out from his skin.

Only immediately to retreat back to Luffy's side, like a scorned child hiding behind its mother's skirt. Eyes shining with relief and awe, Luffy craned his neck to see what had managed to beat back the absolute power only to feel his breath hitch in his throat.

Zoro, looking tense and ready for battle, stared right at him.

Anger thundered through Luffy's veins, the power hanging in the air around him. "Zoro." His voice was low and guttural and it took all of Luffy's self-control not to recoil at the tone of his own voice, how utterly alien and ruthless it sounded to his ears.

"Luffy, I thought you might have had Conqueror's Haki."

The comment so absolutely out of nowhere and eager for confirmation, Luffy found his anger fleeting for a single moment. "Vivi mentioned that she thought it was that, wasn't sure if she was right or not. Do you know how to control it?"

Zoro grinned, the tight smile not reaching his eyes. "I have a few ideas."

The sound of Nami's terrified screams and broken pleas rang in Luffy's head and the renewed rage coursed through his veins again. Luffy crossed the room in a blur, sending the sheets flying, fingers clutching at Zoro's shoulders. "Why?" The growled word was accompanied by another burst of the power, it desperately trying to smother the taller man.

Zoro's eyes softened slightly, his larger fingers prying Luffy's hands away. The rubber appendages hung loosely at his side, unsure if they should give the green-haired man the chance to explain or just beat him to a bloody pulp. Nami's scream urged him down the path of bloodshed with only his days of bonding with the swordsman anchoring him to the path of reason. Luffy took another breath. "Explain...please." The request came out far weaker than Luffy would've liked.

Zoro frowned, this facial expression finally reaching his eyes. "Did Vivi not explain it to you?"

Hope, a foreign feeling in recent days, begun to burn in Luffy's chest. The power shrieked and fell back deep within Luffy at the newfound mental strength. Desperately trying to not show the happiness on his face that Zoro wasn't to blame, Luffy spoke. "Vivi had a theory, yeah, she said something about a Baroque Works agent. Paints that could control people or something."

Zoro grimaced. "I'm not proud to admit it...but yeah, the little witch got me good. She snuck up behind me while I was napping and painted some weird black symbol on my back. I could only watch from inside as I...as I..." The green-haired man trailed off awkwardly, his eyes downcast to the floor.

Luffy felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders as his customary ear-to-ear splitting grin appeared across his face. Of course Zoro was innocent. This was Zoro after all! Throwing caution to the wind, he went to tackle the swordsman with a cry. Only to hesiated, feet glued to the stone floor as darker thoughts begun to take shape in the back of his head. Niggling worries that he couldn't dismiss, least he be reminded of Nami's bloodied and tearstained face.

Zoro being controlled and being in no way shape or form responsible for his actions...that was a little too convenient, wasn't it? Even by Grand Line standards.

Luffy's hands snaked up and grabbed the man by his distinctive green hair, pulled him down with a jolt so that they were face-to-face. "Look at me," he insisted, "right in the eyes." Slowly, almost hesitantly, Zoro's eyes (it was so rare to see him without an eyepatch, the sight of the cloudy eye always struck a chord deep within Luffy) moved back up.

Black and cloudy into brown.

People had often commented as he grew up that Luffy was very attuned to his more base animalistic side, able to tell if people were lying to him or not in an instant when it really mattered. That on some level he just knew when he was being lied to.

Sure, he spent most of the treating any outlandish claim from any random drunk as gospel but when it counted...really counted, it was different. His animalistic side would just know the truth. Old Man Dadan and the Mountain Bandits along with Ace (Sabo too, a small part of his mind that delighted in reopening old wounds whispered) had always been jealous of it.

And right now, nearly broken by some strange power and unable to trust the petty reassurances of mere words, Luffy relied on that same animalistic side to make the right choice.

"Are you telling the truth?"

Zoro's face was set in stone. "About the Baroque Works girl? Yeah, of course I am."

Luffy believed him. Honestly believed him.

And he definitely wasn't crying as he hugged him.

Things were delicate. They had to deal with the fallout between Zoro and the rest of the crew.

But right there and then, bathed in the early dawn's rays, none of that mattered.

"No secrets, none whatsoever." Luffy was not sure why he said the words but he felt on some deeper level that he had to, that not saying it would be a mark against him as a captain.

Zoro's burly arms returned the hug and his voice was gruff when he answered. "Yeah, no secrets."


	23. Chapter 23

**Authors Note: Just announcing, since I forgot to mention it last chapter, that Temporal Swashbuckler is now being beta'd by the very capable c2t2. Mistakes I hadn't even noticed have been corrected and, just in general, the quality of the last two chapters have shot up.**

"And over here is a bird's nest, they've nested on top of the door so we can't close the doors without breaking it," Nami's new excitable guide said as they reached the entranceway to the isolated castle, "the castle's gotten pretty cold, not that I really notice, as a result."

Nami smiled down at the bouncing bundle of fur beside her as they looked at the nest. "I suppose you don't notice much, with your fur and all."

A miniscule stiffening of the shoulders was the only sign that Nami's words had caused the strange creature some harm. A second later she was left wondering if she'd imagined it as Chopper tilted his head up at her, eyes closed and a huge grin on his face. "Yeah, I guess being a reindeer has its uses."

Nami's hand came down to pat the reindeer on the top of his pink hat, a weird hat for a wonderfully weird being she supposed, and he flinched back with a start. Nami's smile tightened as Chopper covered up his shakiness with false claims of bravado.

It seems he too had had a hard life at the hand of another race.

Nami could empathise with that.

"Chopper," she said, kneeling down so they were face to face, "thanks again for taking care of me."

Chopper blushed, the darkened skin somehow shining through his thick fur, all false bravado gone. "It's not like I care about your gratitude, you shitty human." Had anyone else said that to her in response to her gratitude Nami would've been frothing at the mouth, but Chopper was different. She could tell he didn't mean it, not at all really. In fact it was sorta cute.

"I know, I know," Nami said, her gloved hands on her knees, "say, why don't you show me your office? I'm sure you have plenty of interesting things in there."

Chopper hummed and nodded. "Sure, it's near the top of the castle." His hoof shot out and grabbed hold of Nami's hand, tugging her after him as they walked.

The duo made mindless chatter as they approached the medical office (is being a navigator hard? What does a Devil Fruit taste like?), time flying by as they learned the ins and outs of the other. Nami learned that Chopper had been raised by another doctor on the island who had died after getting in a disagreement with the tyrant who used to rule Drum Kingdom, the name of the winter island she was on apparently, with an iron first. Sensing the morose turn the conversation had been about to take, Nami had started to talk about the crew's wacky hijinks.

About how Luffy had taken the misfits of society and bound them together in the blazing trail he left wherever he went, filling them with purpose and the need to protect. Taking broken people and slotting them together like jigsaw puzzles and, together, they were _perfect_.

Chopper looked up at her, eyes shining with stars, and she smiled back ruefully. Nami had a feeling that she may have just made a slight Luffy fanboy out of Chopper. "So you all trust each other to have your backs completely? That sounds so cool!" Chopper gushed, his little arms pumping in the air as he fought out imaginary battles.

Nami's reply of "damn right!" froze and died in her throat, her gloved hands absent-mindedly touching one of the jagged lines zig-zagging across her face. The simple fact was that she wouldn't, couldn't trust every single member of the Straw Hat Pirates. She thought she could, not anymore.

Not after Little Garden.

Usopp, Sanji...and Luffy. She'd die with a smile on her face for any one of them, she'd forsake her dream so they had a chance to experience theirs. And she'd consider it a life well spent, she wouldn't regret it a bit.

Especially Luffy.

And then there was the Pirate Hunter.

Even now, close to a week later, she couldn't think of her attacker as her friend Roronoa Zoro. Couldn't think of him as the man who had told her, with full confidence, that he would save her from Arlong as she had stolen Merry. No, the man who had put her to the sword was still the Pirate Hunter to her. The confused and dangerous green-haired man swathed in chains at Arlong Park who had stared up at her blankly, eye full of fire and with no recollection of Luffy.

A feral dog that would've bitten any outstretched hand, even one trying to feed it.

Nami had sensed that, deep down she had sensed just how dangerous the confused man could and would be, but she had squashed it down. The most she had done was half-heartedly ask Sanji and Usopp some questions about how Zoro had been acting, but Usopp had joined only a few days before they had met Sanji, and Sanji had literally no other experiences with Zoro besides that (except for when she had apparently missed a fight between Zoro and the World's Strongest which was just...what even in the world! Her boys got into the weirdest situations when she took her eyes off them), so of course he wouldn't be able to tell her if anything was wrong.

And yet Nami had considered the case over and done with after talking with them, moving on with her life after dealing with her niggling doubts and conscience. Not even bringing up her issues with Luffy, who by all rights she should have brought her concerns to in the first place. Nor had she considered going to the source itself: the Pirate Hunter. Well, she could argue that was a moot point anyway, because the Pirate Hunter was gone. He had been replaced by the confident and protective Roronoa Zoro, First Mate of the Straw Hat Pirates.

But she had seen the mask crack, seen the wounded animal behind the smile.

And there was a thought. Which was real and which was the mask? Was the scared yet furious Pirate Hunter she had first met at Arlong Park (and who had made her beg for death at Little Garden), the man she had heard whispers about through her travels as a thief, the real man? Or was the confident and composed man she had ran into in Orange Town the true man behind the mask? Was the Pirate Hunter just some twisted mental health problem of his? Some weird split personality he had came up with to cope with the blood-filled life he had led, something he had squashed down after meeting Luffy?

Nami hoped so because if the Pirate Hunter was the true persona and Roronoa Zoro was nothing but a carefully placed facade, if her entire friendship was built from the ground up on nothing but lies and deceit, then she wasn't sure what she would do. If the one that caused her so much pain (sharp steel slicing through her skin, biting down to the marrow, as she writhed and nerve endings screaming with her in absolute agony) and despair, the one who had nearly shattered both her mind and body, was the man behind the mask, it would taint each and every single memory and experience with the man she had called Roronoa Zoro.

And, feeling the coarse stitching criss-crossing as it ran through her body, Nami was having a hard enough time imagining forgiving Zoro as it is. And that's if the incident was somehow out of his control. But if it had been the Pirate Hunter behind everything...well then…

That was another thing altogether.

They rounded the corner to Chopper's office, Chopper mid-sentence (and now some of the villagers think I can fly!), when a pair of arms stretched out from the other end of the corridor and latched possessively around the small reindeer's waist. Chopper had just enough time to widen his eyes a fraction, confusion brimming in their brown depths, before the arms retracted with an elastic _snap_ and, screaming all the way, Chopper shot down the corridor.

Nami snorted in spite of it all. It seemed that Luffy was well on the road to recovery, the echo of merry laughter bouncing off the stone walls only solidifying her opinion. "I should probably make sure Luffy doesn't break anything...or break Chopper for that matter."

"I doubt you have to worry about that, Luffy knows what he's doing. Most of the time, that is."

Nami's veins were liquid nitrogen. The voice rang mockingly though her mind, her brain pounding in her skull. Muscles tensed and coiled, ready to run at a moment's notice, time seemed to stutter and freeze. Slowly, fearfully, Nami turned around.

The green-haired man stood at the end of the stairway, where Nami had walked but moments ago, staring at her. Pirate Hunter or Roronoa Zoro? Pirate Hunter or Roronoa Zoro? Pirate Hunter or Roronoa Zoro? Hunter or Zoro? Hunter or Zoro? Was it the Hunter? Was it Zoro? The panicked and maddening thoughts shrieked through her head, a cacophony of fear chipping away at her brain. Nami took a step back, her eyes dilating, the paranoid mishmash of thoughts reaching a screaming crescendo as the green-haired man crossed his burly arms.

 _Danger_ , her mind screamed at her, _just run for it, for god's sake!_

Then the green-haired man's arms loosened, a tentative half-smile tugging at his lips, as a myriad of flashing emotions flickered through his good eye. The emotions went by too quickly for Nami to classify properly but she thought she'd caught guilt and sorrow.

Zoro. It was Zoro.

Her knees buckled out from underneath her in sickening sweet relief and she half-fell, half-sank, to the rough stone floor. Zoro had twitched towards her as she collapsed, conflicting emotions clearly warring in his visible eye, but had stayed where he was, obviously deciding that not making any sudden movements towards her right now was better for them both. Nami cupped her throat with one hand, it felt raw and swollen, as if the hole had shrunk from the size of a coin purse to that of a penny. Her eyes felt puffy and, her other hand's fingers confirming, her eyes were watering. Her voice was nearly guttural when she spoke, her voice so thick with emotion. "Zoro."

Zoro's face was ashen, his eye also shining. "Yeah, Nami," he choked out, "it's me."

And Nami was barreling towards the tall man, damn the small rational part of her mind (ever decreasing since she had met Luffy, Nami finds that it is a small price to pay to be a Straw Hat), her face flushed by large, soppy tear tracks as snot dribbled and bubbled down from her nose. She slammed full force into Zoro's chest, she swore she heard an _oomph_ as the air was expelled from his lungs, her stick thin, at least compared to his, arms wrapping around his waist. "Zorooooooo."

Zoro looked down at her, his forehead scrunching together, as his arms slowly came around to loosely hold her in return. "Nami?" Zoro frowned as Nami burrowed her head deeper into his chest. "You're handling this...better than I expected?"

"It's you," she explained in glee, "it's really you."

Evidently that hadn't explained things well enough as Zoro's face tightened even more. "Do you not remember what happened or something?"

Nami shook her head from side to side. "No, I'm just glad. So glad."

A touch of alarm in Zoro's eye. "Glad?"

"That it's you," she said, finally breaking away from his chest to stare up at him with happy eyes even as tears flowed down her face and broke against the cold floor, "I was so worried that it would be the Pirate Hunter."

Zoro frowned at her as she finally let go and slipped out of her grasp to stand on her working, albeit unsteady, legs. "Pirate Hunter? Nami, what do you mean? Who's the Pirate Hunter?"

Nami took a deep breath and ran a gloved hand through her hair. How do break it to him? Blunty, she decided, with a little nod to herself, as she smiled up at him. "Well that's what I call him anyway, not sure what you call him. Y'know, your other personality."

Zoro went still.

Nami crowed to herself. She was right! "I knew it! At Arlong Park and L-little Garden, that was your other personality surfacing, wasn't it?" She was proud that she barely stuttered when mentioning Little Garden even as the blood haze rose behind her eyelids and her memories threatened to drag her, kicking and screaming, down into their horrid depths.

Zoro's adam's apple was obvious as he swallowed. "Y-yeah, you're right." Zoro's face seemed to grow even paler at his own admittance, Nami hadn't even known that Zoro could look that sickly. Then again, he had looked slightly sick from the get go.

Nami's smile finally slipped from her face, the memories swimming to the forefront of her mind. The maddening feeling of steel rending into flesh, the feeling of a boot crushing down on her windpipe. The absolute certainty that she would be driven insane and die on a godforsaken wax sculpture of all things. "Why, no, _how_ did you lose control?"

"One of the Baroque Works agents had some sort of paints that can influence people mentally and I guess I just had an adverse reaction. Y'know, because of the underlying mental issue."

Nami squeezed his hand as a ball of emotions that she hadn't even known were there began to dissolve in her chest. "I think I get it, don't force yourself, thank you for trusting me with this information. I know it must be hard, Zoro."

Zoro slumped over, seeming to fold into himself even more, and his face grew even more gaunt. The relief he must be feeling for letting all his secrets out in the air was obvious. "And I guess the shock at losing to Mihawk at the Baratie and the bloody way I lost made my other self...Roronoa (that's what I call the other guy) come out."

Once again, and this conversation was breaking all sorts of records, Nami hugged Zoro. "Thank you," she said, more and more tears falling down her face as his arms wrapped around her in return, "it means so much to me that you were able to be so brave and honest with me. Thank you so much for trusting me."

And then they were both crying in the drafty corridor.

* * *

Even with the cable cars bringing them practically the entire way to the castle, the trek was still hell on earth to Sanji. Every step through the snow felt like he was moving a mile through a pool of honey, every limb was sluggish and took an extra two or three seconds to respond after he made a command. His vision was a blur and every sound muffled, like he was hearing it from underwater.

The villagers were spread out around him in a crude unofficial phalanx. As if Sanji was some sort of messiah worth protecting no matter what, no matter how high the cost. Some villagers orbited around the crude protective shield that was Vivi's and Usopp's presence, their eyes shining with reverence and awe as they mindlessly chattered away in Sanji's general direction. He hadn't responded to any of them in half an hour but they still pressed on, determined to assault his ears with everyday smalltalk.

Then again, Sanji supposed, that would be an after effect of utterly trouncing a tyrant they had lived in fear of for years, as said tyrant was just returning to his lands, wrenching away the freedom the people had become accustomed to.

A handful of salted nuts were thrust rather violently into his hand, he knew without looking that the perpetrator was Vivi, and he mechanically threw them back his throat without a sound. He felt Usopp clasp his shoulder from the other side, some show of support probably, but he managed to throw him off after a second or two. "G'reoff," he mumbled in the sniper's general direction.

"Sanji," Vivi said as he turned to look down at her, her blue eyes sparkling up at him in reprimand, "don't get angry at Usopp, he's just trying to help."

He grumbled something resembling an affirmative and shot a rather pale Usopp something that was meant to be a smile but probably came out closer to a sneer. A few rather tense seconds (or at least he thought they were seconds, he was having trouble judging time…) passed as the castle grew bigger and its details more defined as they got closer. Sanji blinked when he saw it, his baggy eyes struggling to reopen, as he took in what looked like something straight out of a storybook and, frankly, it took his breath away.

And then he had misjudged the distance between where he was aiming for and how long his legs were and ended up throwing himself in the snow. Instantly he was mobbed by a tidal wave of villagers as they worked together to lift him from the snow. "Wow, you really weigh next to nothing." One "helper" commented.

"Aye, he's a waif of a man," another laughed, a deep hearty sound that originating from the depths of his gut.

Sanji struggled another few steps towards the doors before Vivi latched onto his arm, pulling him close to her face. "You really have gotten no sleep, have you? This is going to sound weird but do you want to...collapse? I'm sure some of these men would be jumping for joy at the chance to carry you."

Sanji shook his head and pressed on, ignoring Vivi's pursed disapproving lips. He had to make sure Nami was safe and sound, or at least as much as she could be.

"Oi, guys!"

The obnoxiously happy yell came from the tallest rampart of the castle where Sanji could just about make out Luffy waving with one arm while holding a wriggling ball of fur in the crook of the other.

"How's Nami?" Sanji is shocked how assertive and strong he managed to make his voice sound, all things considered.

"Safe."

Sanji nodded sagely before promptly passing out.

* * *

Much to the villagers' great dismay, the Going Merry set sail that very same evening. Sanji had been tossed onto a bed in their new doctor's makeshift infirmary (Vivi had seen him through Mr. Bushido's memories, sure, but she was still blown away by just how cute Chopper was), though Sanji would be enraged when he realised the kitchen's storeroom no longer belonged solely to him.

Between Luffy's cheerful optimism and Nami's rather unsettling insistence that she and Zoro had talked and that she hadn't blamed him, Usopp had quickly folded away any argument that Zoro should be left behind. And their newest furry addition believed Nami's and, especially, Luffy's words were gospel, spending the evening dogging their heels, and had no trouble placing the green-haired man on a pedestal.

The crew, minus Sanji (it would take the apocalypse descending down upon them to wake the cook now), had partied long into the night. Luffy had dragged Usopp and Chopper into playing games and stuffing objects of various length and girth up their nostrils, something the rubber man naturally excelled in, while Nami and Mr. Bushido had drunk themselves silly in the corner. One by one, starting with Nami and ending with Luffy carrying a sleepy Chopper over his shoulders to the men's dorm, they went to sleep and left Vivi to stand watch over the small caravel as the glittering stars in the sky dimmed and the horizon was painted with brushes of violet and amber as the sun began to rise. The unmistakable salty spray that was iconic to life at sea was filling her flared nostrils and, for once, Vivi felt at peace.

The door to the men's dorm creaked open and, his demeanour akin to that of a half-drowned rat, Mr. Bushido slunk onto deck with his eye downcast. "Mr. Bushido," Vivi called out from her spot near the rudder, "over here."

The swordsman grunted in confirmation and walked with slumped shoulders in Vivi's direction, his hands in his pockets. Mr. Bushido sighed as he threw himself down in her general direction, his lower back bashing into the creaky railing, and his hands came up behind his head. "Vivi."

"I managed to save your sword in the madness of Little Garden," Vivi said, knowing that wasn't the real source of the man's distress but it couldn't hurt to try, "I stored it under a loose floorboard beneath my bed."

A glimmer of something in Mr. Bushido's eye as he jolted. "You did? Thanks, that sword….it means a lot to me."

"I know." The words slipped out of VIvi's mouth before she had a chance to consider them, a habit the desert princess thought she had curbed long ago, "I saw Kuina in the swor-no, your memories."

A moment of tense silence, broken by Mr. Bushido's bitter laugh. "Yeah, I suppose you would if you looked long enough."

They lapsed into silence again, Vivi running a hand along the wooden railing while Mr. Bushido stared off at the growing speck in the distance that was the rising sun. "Knowing you," Vivi finally said, "you're feeling guilty about Little Garden, right? I'm not saying it wasn't your fault, because maybe it was in a little way, but moping about isn't going to fix anything."

"It isn't that," the green-haired man said, his eye closed as he took in a particularly big breath, "I sorta came to terms with that while the body was sick."

It was always sorta surreal to hear Mr. Bushido refer to it as "the body" and not "his", but Vivi brushed that off to focus on his words. "Oh? Then what is it?"

"I feel like scum," Mr. Bushido confessed.

She paused, this was not what she had been expecting. "Oh?"

"Nami thinks I have some sort of mental problem, split personality or whatever, and I chickened out and pretended that was true." The swordsman's hands came from their resting spot behind his head to cup his face.

"I suppose," Vivi said slowly, weighing her words carefully, "that is sorta true, if you look at things from a certain perspective."

Mr. Bushido laughed again, the self-deprecating bitter sound that she was unfortunately starting to associate with the man. "Sorta true is basically just a fancier way of saying that you're still lying."

"Still..." Vivi trailed off, unsure of how to help him assuage his guilt.

"And you want to know what the kicker is?" Mr. Bushido's laughter took on a choked air, tinged with hysteria, and Vivi realised he was probably moments away from crying. "She hugged me after. _Me_. And thanked me with tears in her eyes for being honest with her. For being honest!"

And then he was crying, pale shaking hands muffling the choked heart-wrenching sounds.

Vivi ran her fingers through his cropped hair, following the faint memories she had of her mother doing the same to her in her very early childhood, and whispered faint nonsensical sounds of support as the proud warrior let down his guard and mental defences completely while they sat alone under the dawn's ray.

And, right there and then, Vivi made a decision that would drastically alter the rest of her life and that would send long lasting ripples in many, many others. Truth be told, it was a decision she had been contemplating since she had gotten Mr. Bushido's memories and learnt the fate of the Straw Hat Pirates. Her entire reason for staying behind at Alabasta, she guessed anyway, was that she was sure that larger than life Luffy would be perfectly fine on his own. The world would have no choice but to bow to his whims, his every whimsical fancy.

Evidently, that hadn't been the case.

The Straw Hat Pirates had needed her.

Mr. Bushido still did.

And she was more than willing to help. They'd save her kingdom, sure, but after...after Vivi couldn't see herself just settling down into the role of crown princess. Not while her friends needed help.

Nefeltari Vivi, princess of Alabasta, was going to be a Straw Hat Pirate.

The world could, and it probably would, descend into madness around her and she would still stick by her friends.

Stand beside Luffy and Mr. Bushido.

Until the end.


End file.
